


Living with Max

by FelineJaye, Kialish



Series: Bittersweet Honey [2]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Dad/vid, Dubious Consent, Gen, Headcanon Backstory, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MaxDadVid, Pedophilia, Self Harm, The non-con parts are only the first chapter tbh, pedophile!David
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 53,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelineJaye/pseuds/FelineJaye, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kialish/pseuds/Kialish
Summary: At the end of the Summer, Max is left in David's (temporary?) care. After Max stumbles in on David darkest, best-kept secret the pair are forced to make some hard decisions.And hard decisions are never straightforward when trauma and human emotions are involved.A collaborative fic that was born out of a brief one shot and took a life of its own.VERY SENSITIVE writing. PLEASE pay attention to the tags. Currently on Hiatus, but will return





	1. Chapter 1

The drive to David’s house was long and silent. Camp was over for the summer, and would most likely not reopen the following year with Mister Campbell being taken to prison. Some heartfelt goodbyes had and the kids had all been picked up by their parents… Well, almost all of the kids.

David’s eyes flickered from the road down to the balled up form of Max sitting shotgun, then back. No one came for Max. No one even picked up the phone when they called to remind his parents that camp was over… Gwen had stayed with the two until it started getting late, leaving just David and Max. David tried to be supportive and reassuring, saying that they probably just got stuck in traffic, but definitely hadn’t forgotten about him. The boys silence was more than enough of a disagreement.

After the sun had started to set, David suggested bringing Max home himself, because perhaps his parents were just too gosh darned busy. Max didn’t say anything, but headed for the car in a silent kind of ‘okay’. He muttered his address, but with how late it was getting, David suggested having a sleepover at his own apartment. Silence again. David took that as another ‘okay’.

He didn’t turn on any music, constantly debating if he should try talking more. Max didn’t seem much responsive to anything though, so he simply waited it out.

“Here we are! Home sweet home.” David sad, finally breaking the heavy silence between them. The gravel crunched beneath the tires as he pulled into a parking lot. Max squinted at the shabby looking apartment building judgmentally, but stuck to his routine of silence as he undid his seat belt. “I’ll order us some pizza, and we can get some sleep. Tomorrow you’ll be back home and i’m sure it’ll all have just been a miscommunication.”

Davids assurances went unheard, the ten year old sliding out of the car with duffle bag of belongings over his shoulder. The man sighed, face falling slightly as he followed suit. He led Max up to his one bedroom apartment, the interior looking much better than its deceiving outer appearance. Just as he left it. As one would assume, his apartment was furnished with hardwood furniture and nature photographs on his wall. The living room bled into the kitchen with only a half wall to separate them. A small hallway pushed by the left of the open rooms with two doors, a bathroom and a bedroom.

“It’s no tent at camp, but it works just fine.” David said, offering another dazzling smile and putting his hands on his hips. When Max didn’t reply, David dropped his arms. “I’m sorry, Max. I know I can’t make you magically feel better and I know things feel really bleak right now. You can sleep on the couch tonight. I’m gonna go order that pizza.”

Max threw himself on the futon couch, duffle bag on the floor by him. David watched as he pulled off each shoe, flinging them across the floor before curling up.

What was he even thinking right now? David didn’t have a clue. He didn’t know what to say. If he kept trying to be positive, well… he’d seen Max lash out at that. The kid was a realist. He knew that things weren’t going to be okay. Hell, David didn’t even know if his parents **would** actually care if he brought his son back at all.

The idea made David reel for a second, and not because of how atrocious it was that Maxs’ parents would probably disown him. David realized suddenly he was alone. Alone with Max. Heat rushed to his face and he swallowed hard. No. No. He had been so careful to place himself around children in a cautious way, in a way that wouldn’t cause him to… to get urges. Gwen was always around at Camp, and so where all the other kids. But here, now.

Alone.

With Max.

“Hey, David.” Maxs’ voice broke the tense and foggy silence clouding the adults mind. “You have TV or something?” His voice was strained, like opening his mouth brought the threat of tears.

“Oh, uh, sure!” David replied, swallowing down the unpleasant thoughts and getting the remote for Max.

David half expected the kid to default to cartoons, but wasn’t surprised when he flipped on the History Channel. It was some actual history documentary about the Romans, but Max didn’t seem to mind. David ordered the pizza, watching the documentary in silence as they waited.

Max didn’t talk through the show. Or the next one. Or when they ate pizza. Or when David noticed it was getting really, really late.

“Hey, bud, I’m gonna turn in,” David started. “If you can’t sleep, you can watch TV. The bathroom is right next to my bedroom if you need it.”

Max gave a small grunt of acknowledgement, David having to stop himself from beaming. Progress, this was progress.

“If… If you need me, you can wake me up, okay? Good night, Max.”

David closed his bedroom door behind him, pressing his back to the door. He exhaled slowly, finding his anxiety rising. It was okay now. He would just… go to sleep. And then tomorrow bring Max home and be done with it… 

He stripped to his boxers and wrapped himself in his stale bed sheets. Gosh, he’d have to do some laundry tomorrow too… Forcing his mind into a calm state, David squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force sleep to come.

But it didn’t. His brain buzzed with dangerous possibility. Things he’d been fighting to silence for ages that swelled each summer. 

Alone with Max.

His eyes shot open, staring hard at one point in the darkened room. Maybe… Maybe if he just. Jacked off he’d feel better. God knows he didn’t exactly have time to do that at the camp.

Flipping onto his back, David slid his boxers down his hips. His mind wandered to Max, a frequent target of his fantasies. God, he felt like shit. His cock twitched at the thought, hardening in his hands. Davids breath hitched, eyes closed as he stroked his shaft. Max, asleep on his couch, oversized shirt slipping off his shoulder slightly. Max, skin soft with youth. Max, in his swim trunks, climbing out of the lake, curly hair heavy with water.

David bit back a moan, the sound muffled in the back of his throat. He was already so damn close, it had been so long. He grit his teeth, stroking himself faster. Just cum already and be done with it.

Max, hugging him even for the briefest of moments. The smell of Maxs’ hair after he showered. Max in a towel. Oh, god, he was awful. 

“Max…” David hissed under his breath, hips rocking against his hand. “God, Max…”

His breathing became desperate pants, still so close, but guilt holding him back. Max’s soft skin brushing against his own, so rarely exposed with his sweater. He wanted to touch him, to feel the curve of his face, trace his spine. He was so small… So innocent.

“M-Max,” David gasped. Just a little more now.

Alone with Max.

Here it comes, teasingly close until--

“What the hell?! Tell me you know someone else named Max, you fucking pervert!” 

Davids eyes flew open, sitting bolt upright. Max was standing by his bed, wearing his sleep shirt and shorts, eyes narrowed in anger and… Fear.

“Max, I-”

“Answer my fucking question, are you some kind of pedophile?! Were you-- fucking-- I… I.” Max stammered, backing away.

“No! I’m sorry! I just- I didn’t want to do anything so I just-”

“Figured you’d jack off gasping my fucking name?” Max was trembling now. The most he’d spoken all day to David. And it was because of this. “I’m calling the fucking cops.”

David reached out, half launching himself out of the bed and grabbing Maxs arm.

“Let go of me you fucking creep!” Max yelled, trying to pull away.

“Max, I’m sorry!” David replied, easily keeping an iron grip on the struggling boy.

“Then let me fucking go!” Max pulled harder. “I bet you were fucking hoping my family wouldn’t come! I bet you wanted me alone.”

_Yes._

“No- Max, I-”

“I’ll scream, someone will fucking come you piece of shit!”

He knew he should just let go. Let him call the police on him, he deserved it. It’s not like he even had Camp Campbell anymore. He needed to resign, stop this now, do something instead of set himself up with checks and balances that were anything but foolproof.

David pulled Max into his bed. Max inhaled to scream and David guiltily clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Shhh, I’m not… I’m not going to do anything to you.” David said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you, Max.”

His brain was going wild. He wanted to do things to Max. For himself. He wanted to be selfish. But he loved the kid, too. And not only in a sick way… 

He could feel Max trying to bite his hand, a shiver sent down his spine and cock twitching. David reached down and stroked himself, leaning into Maxs’ hair. The boy was squirming, digging his nails into the hand clasped over his mouth. He kissed the back of the boys head, breathing over his dark curls. God, he smelled amazing so close. Intoxicating.

Alone with Max…

He came hard into his hand, back arching. Max was still trembling, but had stopped trying to bite and fight off the adult. David let him go, slowly, and sat up. He stared at the shame on his hands, then looked at Max who had curled up into a shaking ball.

“...I’m going to the bathroom. I... I’m sorry, Max.” He said softly, guilt squirming in his stomach.

In the bathroom, David clutched the sides of the sink in an attempt to stabilize himself. What had he done? Max… Max trusted him, as much as the 10 year old was capable and he’d just… thrown it all out so fast, so easily, so impulsively. His brain swam in violent circles as he stared at his pale visage in the mirror. What was he supposed to do next? His heart hammered in his chest, throat tight. Max would probably call the police on him, he had every right to. Or he’d run away.

There was no reparations to be made, he screwed up big time. He would accept the punishment it brought him. Leaning over the sink, his stomach twisted in on itself. He was a terrible person. Max didn’t deserve this, he deserved so much better…

Shakily, he pulled himself upright, washing his shaking hands and fighting the ice cold shivers that were running from his scalp down his spine. He wanted to throw up. Hell, he wanted to kill himself.

“Why did I do that?” He whispered to the mirror. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to meet whatever fate he was decided to have.

Max… Hadn’t moved. Panic seized David now, feeling faint and unable to breath. He… He didn’t do anything, still laying on his side, face obscured by the darkness of the room. He could feel himself begin to shake minutely, then seized up his muscles, trying to stop it. Freaking out wasn’t going to help Max.

“I’m sorry, Max,” David blurted, startling himself with his own voice. “I-I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve let you go. I couldn’t contro-... I didn’t know what-”

He cut himself off and let out a shaky breath.

“There’s no excuses or reasons I can give that will fix this, fix what I did.” He sad softly, clenching his fists till his nails bit into his palms. He opened his mouth to speak again, but whatever words he’d hoped for got caught in his throat. His mind felt like a mess, ideas overlapping each other. He could feel his heart beating against his ribs and feel his lungs working overtime. He walked over to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. Shoving it into Max’s face finally got the kid moving again.

“Please. Call someone, call the police, call Gwen, your parents. I did wrong and-and you don’t deserve this, and I fucked up. Please just-just do something. I deserve it.” The words fell from his mouth, a million more waiting to come out.

_I’m sorry I’m so sorry a million times over I don’t expect forgiveness I just want you to be okay please please please-_

Max took the phone, still silent, never looking David in the face. The man let out a shaky breath, sitting on the bed with several feet between them as he wrung his hands. He felt like passing out. He didn’t want to deal with this, with what he had caused. He made a mistake, he shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t’ve taken Max home, should’ve given him to Gwen, he should’ve…. Should’ve done anything, **anything** else. He hugged himself, trying to literally hold himself together. His nails dug into the underside of his elbows and he stared, transfixed, at the stark white marks that the indents made. Abruptly he stopped, unfolding his arms and shoving his hands into his lap firmly, before deciding that wasn’t good either and putting them on the bed beside him. Why should he get to hug himself, after all? It’s not like he deserved to be hugged. Not after that.  


* * *

  
On the other side of town, Gwen rolled over in bed with a loud groan and panickedly grabbed at her headboard as she almost toppled over the side. She always slept up near the side of her double bed the night after camp finished, habit left over from having a single bed for months. She lifted her head from where she’d buried it in her pillow, squinting into the darkness.

Her phone, screen-side up on her bedside table, was flashing rhythmically, vibrations loudly drawing it closer to clattering off the edge of the table.

“Mother-fucking-fucker.” she tried to say but her mouth was still so sleepy that it came out more like;

“Mmrr-ffurrnn-ffkrrr.”

She slapped at her phone, flopping back into her bed as she squinted at the screen. She smooshed her eyes shut, the screen far too bright for any reasonable human being. On automatic, she turned the brightness down to minimum and gingerly she squinted her eyes open to look at the screen to see who was calling her at this god forsaken hour.

“Oh for fuck’s-”

She swiped to pick up.

“David, it’s fuck-off o’clock in the morning. Why the fuck are you calling me?”

The line is dead for a moment and Gwen take’s the moment to scrunch her eyes shut and then blink them open into the darkness of her room. She can feel crust gooing up the corners of her eyes.

“Hey Gwen.”

What.

“...Max?”

Oh shit.

Gwen sat up straight in her bed and rubbed at her eyes, blinking rapidly and trying to wake up at 90mph.

“Max…” she slowly started, “Are you safe? Where’s David?”

If this little shit had just stolen his phone and was pranking her, she’d strangle him. But she was going with her gut. Not 24 hours earlier she’d watched over him with David by her side, only for the boy’s parents to never arrive to pick him up. She wouldn’t put it passed the universe to continue screwing the poor kid over.

“Max?”

“David’s.. Breathing really fast? And kind of.. Clenching himself? It’s kinda freaking me out.”

Gwen blinked the dark spots from her eyes.

“Breathing- Oh, oh right. Is he fidgeting, like he can’t stay in one position for long?”

A pause.

“Yeah.”

Gwen gave a soft sigh. She knew what this was, could fix it in her sleep. Which was good because she was still mostly asleep. She leaned back into bed, rolling onto her side and wedging her phone between her ear and her pillow.

“He’s having a panic attack, Max. It’s okay. He used to have these a lot when he first started as a counsellor. Still has them at the start of each Summer, actually. Okay, tell him to raise his right hand in front of his chin and then to clench for 2 seconds and unclench for 1. Got that?”

“Yeah, hang on,”

The phone in her ear was muffled for a moment, then she heard Max repeating her instructions. Another sound and Max returned.

“Okay, now what?”

“Okay, once he’s doing that properly, let him do it about… ten times. Then tell him to stop and tell him to copy your breathing. You need to breath in for seven seconds and then breath out for ten seconds. It’s gonna feel kinda strained bu-” she interrupted her instructions with a yawn, not pulling her mouth from the receiver, “-but you won’t run out of air or anything. Just do that for a while, don’t make any sudden movements, and it should be fine. And if he starts scratching at himself or rubbing his neck, just be gentle and pat his hands away, okay? He doesn’t need to hurt himself.”

A rustle, then;

“Okay.”

She could hear Max counting under his breath - counting David’s hand squeezes, most likely.

“You guys need anything else, Max?”

She blinked, letting the seductive wave of sleep start to pull her eyelids back down. She blinked her nearly closed eyes, half-realising that it had been a rather long pause and Max still hadn’t answered her.

“Ma-” another, deeper, yawn, “Max? Anything else?”

“...No. Nothing else. Everything’s totally fine.”

“Thank christ. Okay. Ring me if something serious happens, ‘kay? David and I are here for you, y’know?”

Her words started to slur as sleep dug it’s fingers back into her.

“Pff, whatever.”

“Ah heh heh,” she let out a slightly deranged chuckle, “G’night y’lil’shit. G’ luck wi’ Davey.”

“‘Night.”

The call clicked dead in her ear and she blindly slapped it back to its place on the bedside table. She’d plug it back into its charger tomorrow.  


* * *

  
David found himself entirely too dumbstruck to do anything but listen as Max relayed Gwen’s instructions. He didn’t… He didn’t tell her anything. All he did was get her to tell him how to stop David from panicking. At first David thought he was gonna tell her at the end but then just said goodnight and hung up.

“Max-”

“Breath with me.” 

“I’m sor-”

“Shut the fuck up and breath, David.” 

The man clamped his mouth shut mid apology.

“Look at me, and breath in the same time.”

David shifted to turn towards Max, the boy with the same expression he typically had. Narrowed eyes and a small frown opening as he inhaled and exhaled. It wasn’t readable. David wanted to know, needed to know. How much damage had he just caused? Why didn’t Max tell Gwen? Did he hate him? Was he-

Max gently swiped at Davids hand that had crept up his arm and started picking at the inside of his elbow.

“Quit zoning out and breath, idiot. And **don't** apologize.”

David closed his open mouth and tried again, slowly following Maxs’ inhales and exhales. His shoulders visibly slumped as everything started to slow down to a comfortable level. 

“You good?” Max asked, brow quirked. David broke the eye contact and nodded slowly. This should’ve been reversed. Max shouldn’t be guiding David out of a panic attack…

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off again by Max.

“No. You don’t speak right now.” The kid started. “It’s still like you said. We sleep, tomorrow we hit the road, and you dump me back on my shit parents. End of story. Got it?”

David nodded silently and Max slid off his bed. As he left, Max grabbed the door handle and looked back at David, then closed the door. And that was that. David threw himself back on his mattress, arms outstretched as he stared at the ceiling. This was fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have the ever lovely Jaye to thank for this, as they were the one who came to me after I posted my one shot with the start off ideas for what this fic will become! We both hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Also, let us know if you think there are more tags that we should be adding.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning David woke up feeling just about as shitty as he’d gone to sleep. His sleep had been restless, blankets strewn across his bed with a corner sheet having been pulled up from the mattress. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he had slept. Certainly didn’t feel like it…

But the sun was streaming through the window now, and he had a possibly traumatized ten year old on his couch. Also, there was no food in the apartment. 

He pulled himself out of his bed and dug through his closet. Throwing on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, David topped it off with his old Camp Camp shirt wrapped around his neck. Going for the door, he realized it was jammed shut. He blinked and jiggled the handle again. It still wouldn’t open.

“Max? MAX?!” David started yelling in panic, pouding a fist against the door. Oh god, what had happened?! Had someone broken in? Taken away Max and locked him in his room? Oh god, he was going to be sick…

There was a clunk and the sound of something being dragged across the carpeted hallway. The door knob turned, and Max stood in the doorway with on hand in his hoodie pocket.

“Do you have any food?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Oh, uhm…” David blinked. “No… I wasn’t here for three months and the power was off so… I don’t have anything just yet.”

What was going on? Why was he just acting like nothing was wrong…

“Coffee?”

“I don’t drink it. We only had it at the Camp because Gwen drank it.” David replied, rubbing the back of his head. He glanced down the hall, a chair out of place. “Did you jam my door with a chair?”

It wasn’t like it was beyond Max to do something like that. He’d been a much worse trouble maker during Camp. The boy shrugged, but didn’t reply. Okay, a silent ‘yes’.

After an awkward moment, David cleared his throat.

“I figured we would just leave when we both were awake, and just stop on the way there for food.”

“Ugh. Fine. Let’s go then.”

“Oh, okay. You have everything ready?” David asked as Max walked towards the living room. He ran his hand through his hair quickly.

“Yeah, same place as I left it. Now lets go, I’m fucking hungry and want some damn coffee.” 

They stopped at a truck stop to gas up before they hit the road, grabbing something fast and cheap for breakfast. Max also threw a pair of sunglasses onto the checkout desk, looking up at David as if daring him to say no. He didn’t.

Back in the car, David plugged the address Max had given him into the GPS suctioned to his dashboard and they set off. 

The ride was almost as awkward as the one from Camp Campbell to David’s. No, it was a hundred times worse, and overlayed with whatever variety pop station could drown out the silence. Max had his sunglasses covering his eyes, hands shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie and slouched down with his feet propped up on the dashboard. David couldn’t tell what he was doing or thinking. And he was quiet for a long time.

“So-” David started, trying to break the stretch of silence between them. Max cut him off.

“Why do you always wear that stupid shirt around your neck?” He asked.

“What?”

“You only had it off last night. Why do you wear it every fucking day?” Max repeated. Shit that’s right, he did have it off last night. But if Max was asking about it, he hadn’t seen what he was covering…

“It just… reminds me of all the good times I had at Camp Campbell when I was your age.” David stated, self consciously adjusting the yellow material. It wasn’t like it was a total lie… “I’ve always had the best times there.”

“Oh, right. Surrounded by kids.” Max stated cooly. David flinched.

“It’s **not** like that-”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m going back to not talking now.”

And that was that.

The sun moved overhead as the billboards along the side of the road flew passed. He didn’t try to break Max’s silence again, letting him stare out the window and letting him control the radio. Not that the silence stopped him from glancing over at the boy, his face unreadable behind his new sunglasses.

They stopped for lunch, pulling off into the nearest McDonald’s. David tried to encourage Max to get a juice and have a salad instead of fries - the healthy options honestly looked better than the supplies they had at Camp Campbell. But Max had told the man at the register to supersize him a meal and David didn’t stop him, instead getting a salad for himself.

They sat at a table next to a window, near the entrance to the playground. David put his back to the equipment as he sat. They ate quietly, David switching his gaze between the window and Max’s attempts at eating. As his own salad dwindled he realised Max hadn’t touched his food but had apparently just spent the whole time drinking which ever drink he’d chosen. He frowned.

“Don’t just fill up on soda, young man. After all that complaining about the Quartermaster’s cooking, you’d think you’d be happy to get some McDonald’s into you.”

Max shot a shadowed look up at him, clearly unimpressed with this attempt. David reached over to take the drink out of Max’s hand, sighing.

“Come on, Max. I want to be able to honestly tell your parents I fed you for the day when we get there.”

“Like they’d care.” he heard Max mutter, but nonetheless the boy started picking at his large fries.

A particularly piercing giggle came from behind him and an idea came to him.

“How about this; if you finish all your fries or your whole burger, I’ll let you go play on the playground for a bit, okay?”

Max stopped picking at his fries, flicking just his eyes up to David. He leaned around, the movement somehow looking exaggerated, then leaned back. A mean smirk twitched up the edge of his mouth.

“You want to ‘supervise’ me running around with a bunch of other little kids?”

David desperately tamped down his impulse to blush. How Max figured out how to twist his intentions so completely every time…

“I think one of them took off their shirt. I bet you’d love-”

“Max.” he hissed firmly, glancing around.

“What?”

“You. You can’t say that sort of thing, okay?”

David looked up at him, only for Max to defiantly grab his soda with one brow raised. The threat hummed unsung between them.

They had left most of the food untouched by the time they returned to the car.

It took just a few hours after for suburbs to start popping up along the sides of the roads, changing their view. Crisp lawns unrolled themselves on either side, bright green and glistening with drops of water from sprinklers. David looked around, curious about the sort of place Max came from. His parents had money if these houses were anything to go by.

He frowned. If they were so well off, why hadn’t they come and gotten Max? Why didn’t they have anyway to contact them?

“Behind that black car.” Max spoke up for the first time in hours.

Sure enough the checkered flag icon on the GPS was approaching fast. One of these houses was Max’s. It was almost over. David felt unreleased stress drain from his tense muscles. He was disappointed to see Max go for… a mix of reasons he wasn’t willing to examine. But more than that he was relieved that this tense, awkward, stressful situation was about to be over.

He pulled up and parked smoothly where Max told him to. In no time Max had jumped out, grabbing his duffle bag and Mr. Honeynuts, slamming David’s car door shut and making his way up the front path. He smiled ruefully, thinking about how this very well could be the last time he witnessed Max’s defiant attitude. He was going to miss it. The kid may have been a terror at Camp Campbell, but he’d never been a bad kid. Not in David’s view. He would miss how Max kept him on his toes, always showing surprising intelligence even if he was always using it for schemes. He’d miss the boy’s laugh, him joking about with Nikki and Neil. He was going to miss him.

He locked the car with a click as he stepped out, though he probably didn’t need to on a street like this, and turned his gaze to Max’s front lawn. It had neatly trimmed grass and a paved path up the middle that led to a few little steps to a veranda that stretched around the front of the house. The house had two stories and looked like it had a basement below it. It had a small hedge along the front and... 

_Oh no._

There was a sign hammered in just in front of the hedge. Max must’ve missed it - too excited to be home or too afraid to stay with David any longer than he had to.

David picked up his pace, rushing to catch up to Max who was standing in front of the front door and waiting for someone to answer the bell.

The door opened before David could make it, revealing a teenage girl with a red plait and freckles across her nose. He could hear them from where he was, part way up the path.

“Oh! Hello. Are you here to play with Jamie?” She asked giving Max a sweet smile.

“Who the fuck is Jamie?” Max shot back.

The girl was visibly taken aback and David dispensed with subtly to run the last few steps. He put on a laugh, ruffling Max’s hair as he did so. It was comforting to see Max flail at his hand like he usually did.

“Sorry, don’t mind him. He’s just a bit tired. We’re here to see, uh, Max’s parents.”

The girl blinked at him; “Um.”

“Yeah, it’s a Sunday, how are they both at work? One of them has to be home.”

Max moved to push passed the girl but she was clearly experienced, crouching down and blocking his path.

“Uh, sorry, I don’t think I’m allowed to let strangers in. You’re… not here to see Jamie?”

Max began trying to wiggle passed her, leaving the talking to David.

“N-no. Uh, ah ha, let me explain. I’m David, one of the camp counselors from Camp Campbell. No one showed up to pick up Max from camp on Saturday and- and we couldn’t get ahold of anyone using the provided contact numbers so. So I thought-”

The girl was looking more confused and worse - she was starting to look sympathetic. Pitying. David could feel himself digging further and further down into this mess but. But he had to keep trying.

“I thought I’d just drive little Maxie here up myself. So. So here he is. Home.”

“Yeah, so get the fuck out of my way. Shit, I just wanna crash on my bed.”

“Oh, oh I’m so sorry.” the girl looked horrified.

She and David shared a look. They both knew. They’d both seen the SOLD sign out the front of the house. They looked down at Max.

Max looked at them, a furious frown on his face.

“What the **fuck** are you sorry for? Just let me in. This is my **house**.”

David felt his heart drop. Max was a smart kid. He must know, must’ve figured it out from what he’d heard. But he just… wasn’t accepting it. Couldn’t accept it. David couldn’t blame him.

“I’m sorry-” the girl tried to calm him down.

“Go fuck yourself! What the fuck do you know! Go- get fucked! Just move you fucking bitch!”

“Listen, Max, was it? I’m sorry but please don’t swear so-”

“ **Fuck fuck fuck shit crap**! You can’t tell me what to do you fucking cunt! Only my parents can and they’re-” his voice cracked, the fear shining through for the first time. “They’re at work and- And so- Let me- Just fucking-”

“Stacey?” there was a quiet voice and David saw a boy about Max’s age walking down the hallway behind where the girl was crouched in front of Max. A white boy with light brown hair.

“Stacey, who’s that?”

“Uh,” she turned to the boy. “No one, Jamie, don’t worry, go back to the playroom. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Max shouted over her; “It’s my **fucking** house! Get out of my **house**! You can’t just steal someone’s house for fuck’s sake!”

“Stacey?” the boy - Jamie - sounded scared now.

This was going downhill, fast.

“Jamie just-”

“Fucking **let go** of me!”

David snapped into action. He reached down and grabbed Max who immediately started thrashing about in his arms. He took a step back so that he wouldn’t hit Stacey or hit himself on the door and then swooped down to grab Max’s duffle bag in his other hand.

“I’m sorry we disturbed you. And for Max’s… language. We’ll just… go. Sorry about this. Have a lovely day, Stacey.”

Max seemed to be stilling in his arms, muffled sniffles coming from his body. Stacey’s eyes were full of pity.

“It’s okay. I- Do you want to come in? Have a cup of coffee and a glass of water? Is there anyone you can call?”

“No it’s- it’s okay. Thank you. We’ll. We’ll work it out. Thank you. Sorry for disturbing you.”

David turned, Max under one arm and his bag in the other, and walked back down the front path. He walked passed the large realtor sign with a red SOLD sticker slapped across it and felt Max’s head turn to follow the sign as they passed. He put Max back into the front seat, belting him in and tucking Mr Honeynuts under the seat belt with him. He gently tossed the duffle bag into the back seat and then got into the driver’s seat.

He drove out of the area, passed the houses and around streets until they were away from the house. He pulled over again and switched off the car. He could hear Max crying next to him, huddled into his hoodie and his teddy bear. David didn’t interrupt him. 

Then he stopped being able to hear Max crying. He kept his eyes forward, his hands loosely on the wheel.

There was a low shadow creeping in through the rear window by the time Max unfolded himself, put his feet back on the floor and gently pulled his teddy bear from being crushed against his chest.

David flinched as Max broke the silence.

“They told me to take him.”

He looked over to find Max staring into Mr Honeynut’s face. He could see dry tear marks over his cheeks and chin.

“I was going to leave him. Didn’t want him getting hurt or lost. But pita said...he said to take him.”

There was another sniff.

“So I guess they cared enough to make sure I had my bear. But not enough to-.”

A choked sound.

David opened his mouth to apologise but stopped. It seemed so empty to just say sorry. What were you meant to say to a child who just found out that their parents had abandoned them?

“I thought they just dumped me at Camp Campbell so they didn’t have to put up with me for the Summer. But-” another choked sound, and Max hugged his bear close to him again, “It was forever.”

He saw Max’s face screw up tight, a flush high on his cheeks and his eyes looking wet.

“Of course they don’t want to put up with me. I’m just a little bastard. The trouble-making, foul-mouthed kid who no one wants to be seen with. The embarrassment. Why wouldn’t they ditch me at the first fucking chance they had.”

But he couldn’t let talk like that stand.

“No, Max. They shouldn’t have done this. This is wrong.”

And at least sorry was a place to start.

”I’m sorry your parents are assholes. I’m sorry they didn’t care enough to keep you. Or to even tell you. I’m sorry they think that making sure you kept your bear would somehow make up for leaving you. I’m… I’m sorry you had to put up with me saying everything was going to be fine all Summer.”

The car was silent, the muted sound of the afternoon turning into evening outside.

“Actually...camp was kind of, well, fun?”

David turned to look at Max, his eyes sparkling and a grin pulling up his face.

“No! Shut up! Stop that!” Max tried to backpedal, “I’m fucking serious! Don’t you dare ever repeat that ever!”

He tried to simmer down his ecstatic grin.

“Okay, Max.”

Max glared at him suspiciously but let it drop. The sky around them turned twilight, the ambient pollution mixing a bright orange with the natural violet. David felt like it should be raining, but the wispy clouds in the sky refused to thicken.

“We can call the realtors, explain the situation. They should have a contact number for your parents. Or - we could call the police. Report missing… parents?” David suggested.

He looked at Max to see what he thought. The boy shrugged, slouching down in his seat, his posture relaxing.

“Why bother? They’re just going to get rid of me again. Or Child Services are going to take me away before they can try again.”

“Okay. Then I’ll call Gwen and you can stay with her until… until we figure something out. Or if she-... well, we’ll call her first.”

Max looked up and David found the look on his face was frustratingly inscrutable.

“Why don’t I just stay with you?”

David frowned at him, something like anger creasing his brow. He’d been trying to ignore that even being a possibility.

“I think last night proved that would be a terrible idea, Max.” David said firmly.

He kept his stern look on Max, waiting for a rebuttal, then pulled out his phone when none was forthcoming.

“If I have a coffee I should be able to get you back to Gwen’s late tonight. Or early tomorrow.”

He dialed her number, putting the phone on speaker and holding it between them. He doubted Max would appreciate two adults talking over his head, after all.

Gwen wasted little time in answering;

“David! You finally drop Max off? What were his parents like? Were they as fucking terrible as we guessed? What did they say when you pointed out they didn’t come to pick him up or come to Parent’s Day? Come on, dish!” Typical Gwen. David would’ve cracked a smile at her questions in any other situation.

“Uh, well, it was a bit more complicated than that.” He started.

“What? Oh. My. God. Please tell me you fought them. Did you punch them? Kick ‘em? Hit one with a chair? Argh, I hope Max video taped it.”

“He didn’t meet my parents.” Max cut in.

The line went quiet.

“David…” Gwen’s voice thrummed with barely restrained anger and… fear, “Why do you still have Max?”

“Uh, that’s what I was ge-”

“My parents fucking abandoned me.”

Of course Max couldn’t let him break the news gently. David supposed it was **his** news to break, after all.

“What?!” Gwen screeched.

“Yeah. They fucking moved away. Got here and there was some fucking white family living in my- in my old house. Like I’ve been saying all Summer. My parents don’t. Give. A. Shit. Except they gave way less of a shit than any of us ever guessed.”

“They fucking moved away?! Jesus goddamn christ! That is some seriously fucked up bullshit!”

“I know, right?” Max seemed almost delighted to have someone to vent with, “Like, I was wa-a-ay underselling how much life sucks and how much my parents just don’t give a crap. I wish I’d known this sooner! I could’ve shut either of you up whenever just by saying my parents abandoned me at your shitty Summer camp!”

“Yeah! There’s, like, no good comeback for that! It would’ve been such a power move!”

“Seriously!”

David cleared his throat, giving a look to the phone and Max’s face.

“Is David giving us that look?” Gwen asked from the phone.

“Yep.”

“...So, what are we going to do?”

“Max-” David started, but the boy cut him off without hesitation.

“I’m gonna stay with David.”

He whipped head around to stare furiously at Max. What on Earth did he think he was doing?

“Oh, yeah, okay.” Gwen said, oblivious to David's dilemma. 

David started shaking his head at Max, his eyes wide with panic and gesturing to take it back. Max met his look, his own eyes full of an unspoken dare.

“Sounds like a good plan.” Gwen stated.

“Yeah, I mean I already stayed with him for one night. What’s another?”

Unspoken words passed between them, David silently begging for Max to take it back and Max daring him to say something and contradict him. Both knowing that there was no good reason that David could admit to as to why Max couldn’t stay with him.

“Okay, so are you driving back home tonight, David? Maybe you should get a motel room or something, it’s kinda late…”

“It- it’ll be okay. We’ve been taking stops, I’ll even have a coffee.”

“Okay, I guess. Call me when you guys get home. And stay safe! Max?”

“Mm?” The boy hummed.

“If he starts looking tired punch him until he takes you to a motel, okay?”

Max’s face split into a mean grin.

“David, did he just get that scheming grin on his face?”

“Yes?”

“Good, that means he’s taking it seriously. Well, stay safe you two.”

They both murmured an agreement.

“And, uh, hey Max?”

“Yeah Gwen?”

“Sorry about your shitty parents.”

Max looked down.

“Yeah, me too.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. David sat there, phone in hand, for a long moment looking at Max. He opened his mouth to say something, ask why the gosh darn heck he’d said that to Gwen and put them in such a position.

But he snapped his mouth shut. They had a long drive ahead of them and he just wanted to be back home. At least there should be less cars out on the roads the later it got. David clicked on the car, flicked on the headlights and pulled out. He tapped his GPS with one hand, letting it take him to his preprogrammed home address. As it’s loading icon swirled and located their position and their route home, David spoke.

“We’ll get dinner on the way home, you can sleep in the car if you get tired. I’ll make up the couch again. We can go shopping tomorrow morning, get some breakfast while we’re out. Get some supplies for… your stay.”

Max nodded, propping his feet back up on the dashboard.

“Sure, whatever, camp man.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning David awoke find his door once more held shut with a chair, having to call Max over to move it. He didn’t bother asking why Max kept doing it; he knew damn well why. As Max watched whatever was playing on the news, David started writing a grocery list. It was mostly the basic perishables; eggs, milk, bread, cheese, sandwich items…. He’d also have to get a blanket and pillow for Max so he wasn’t stuck using the couch pillow; toiletries too. As he finished it off, he hesitated, then scribbled ‘Get Max a phone’. He wanted to make sure the kid stayed safe, and this way he would have contact with David or Gwen or… anyone else if he needed it.

“C’mon, Max.” David called as he slid on his shoes. Max turned off the TV and followed David, hands shoved in his sweater pocket. Did he ever wear anything besides that sweater?

The ride to the closest shopping mall wasn’t a long one and soon enough they were emerging from the car park into the hustle of the crowd. Max made a beeline for the nearest cafe, David’s long legs the only thing letting him keep up. Max looked up as David arrived at the counter.

“Coffee.” Max demanded.

There was a giggle from behind the counter. Looking up, David saw a young woman behind the register, two more elsewhere in the cafe. His eyes crinkled, sharing the mirth but confused at why.

“Bossy little boy, isn’t he?” the woman at the register said between her muffled giggles.

“Go suck a-”

“Ah ha ha ha!” David quickly slapped a hand over Max’s mouth, “Well he’s been used to sleeping in all Summer!”

“Bet he’ll be sad to go back to school when term starts then - is that right little man?”

Max glared up at her, which David honestly thought was the better reaction. Her words, though caught in his mind. Summer was over - school would be starting soon. He was pretty sure you needed some actual legal papers to enroll a child in school. He tried to smooth out his frown.

“We’ll take a coffee and… two servings of French toast, please.”

He gave her a bright smile.

“Coming up.”

Max shuffled off to get a table while he swiped his card through. Max swung his legs, kicking the table as David mentally reviewed his shopping list. It would be a big one - it always was after the Summer but even more so with the addition of Max. The waitress almost caught him off guard when she came over with their French toast and coffee.

She smiled at them, putting the coffee in front of David and a similar cup full of foamy milk in front of Max.

“We had some extra milk, so we made you a babycino.” she winked at Max who ignored her affections.

“Thank you! That was so nice of you, wasn’t it Max?” Max ignored his affections, too, “He’s just tired. Thank you very much.”

She smiled and left them to their breakfast, Max immediately going to grab the coffee while David merely set into his toast.

“I think I’ve thought of all the food we might need. And other essentials. You’ve got your clothes from camp so I assume you’re okay on that front? Do you still have enough toiletries?”  
Max shrugged, poking at his french toast.

“Good!” David took that as a ‘yes’, “Then we won’t have to stock up on that. Hm… I may still get some more toothpaste.”

As David finished up his own meal, he looked over Max’s plate.

“Max, you need to eat more than that.”

“Not hungry.”

David frowned, thinking. What **had** Max eaten in the past day? He’d ordered some big meals but… How much had he actually eaten?

“Did you want something else instead? Some cereal or a muffin, maybe?”

“Not. Hungry.”

Well, Max surely knew his own appetite best. David nodded.

“Well then, let’s be off.”

He left a tip behind and Max strolled after him as he lead them to the Walmart.

David pushed their cart through the aisles, ticking things off out loud as he looked over what they’d already put in their trolley. Max walked alongside, apparently disinterested in everything. He was working on seeing how much random crap he could sneak into the cart, but everytime he looked back it was gone if it was too outrageous. Enough that he suspected David genuinely thought he wanted all the bullshit he was putting in the cart.

“Hm, cereal for breakfast? I’ll get a few loaves of bread, too. We can freeze some, it’ll last longer, but do you want something other than toast? Why don’t you go pick something out, Max?”

David cheerily ignored the eyeroll he received and waited as Max went and grabbed a family sized box of Lucky Charms. He looked David defiantly in the eye as he tossed the huge box in the cart, but then his gaze slid to the side, his expression smoothing out into contemplation. David considered the rest of the options, trying to pick something healthier for himself. He was humming to himself, looking between two options, when Max tugged at his shirt.

He looked down, curious at this unusual behaviour,

“Yes Max? If you’ve changed your mind you can-”

“Nah. What about him?”

David followed the point of his finger, looking down the aisle at a mother and her child also picking out cereal.

“Hm?”

The mother had a scarf loosely wrapped over her head, the boy looked around Max’s age. They could be friends if the family was local too.

“Is he hot?”

A shock ran down his spine like a strike of lightning. He felt his heart speed up, his breath go shallow and all the blood drain from his face. He desperately needed to look around and see if anyone could see his reaction or heard Max but he was struck by the thought that looking around would be what gave him away.

He grabbed Max’s arm, pulling it down rougher than he usually would.

“Ow, what th-”

“ **Max**.” he hissed, “You can’t just say stuff like that in public! What if someone had heard?”

His only response was a shrug and David sharply turned to look at the two boxes of cereal on the shelf in front of him. Both of them looked revolting now, though he suspected that was just his stomach reminding him he was a horrible excuse for a human being. Even worse, he thought as he picked one of the boxes at random and added it to the cart, he hadn’t even been thinking like that this morning. It had just felt like hanging out with his favourite camper - something innocent and certainly platonic. The reminder was a rude and painful one.

“So…?” Max was, at least, quiet as he continued to probe.

David looked away sharply before taking the trolley and pushing down the aisle - away from the mother and her son.

“I honestly wasn’t thinking about it.” he haughtily replied.

Max didn’t let him go that easily, though. “And now?”

David went to turn his head around, get another look at the boy, then realised what he was doing and forcibly turned his head back to the front. There was a tense pause, Max still staring at him the whole while, before he gritted out;

“Yes.”

“Huh. Would you think about him when you-”

“Max!” David turned, alarmed and beet red in the face.

“What, I’m curious. Don’t I have a right to know?”

David found something sinister in the way Max looked up at him. He fidgeted with his grip on their cart before relenting.

“Yes. But please - you can’t say things like this _in public_. There are people and- and cameras. You can...you can ask in the car or at home. Okay, Max?”

He seemed to consider this, then shrugged. Which was as good as he was going to get, he supposed.

The cart now filled with food, David split off away from the grocery area to make his way to the electronics department.

He headed to the phones, looking at what was available. What would be best for Max…

“What are you doing?” Max asked, coming up next to David to look at phones.

“I figured I should get you a phone… Just in case, yknow? I’ll put Gwens number on it, and mine.” David replied. _And 911 on speed dial._ Just in case. Looking down at Max, the boy had a look of bewilderment.

“How the fuck are you going to buy me a phone? Wait- How are you even going to buy all of this shit?” He gestured to the cart. “I thought Campbell didn’t pay you guys shit?”

“Language, Max.” David chided, earning a venomous glare. “And well, yeah, he barely pays me and Gwen. But money’s never really been a problem for me...”

“Do you sell meth on the side or something?”

“What- No!”

“Rich parents die?”

“...Yes.”

“Oh. Uh... Sorry?” Max said, obviously not expecting that to be the answer.

“It’s fine, it was a while ago.” David assured, giving a small smile. “But, yes. They left me a lot of money.”

“Why the fuck do you live in some dumpy little apartment then? Why is your car older than I am? Why did you even **work** at Camp Campbell?! The place is a terrible choice of employment!”

David picked up a small smartphone. Yeah, that’d work fine for Max.

“I never really… enjoyed living in a giant house. And it felt even more empty after they died,” David explained. “I just got what I felt like I needed. A comfortable apartment and a car that works.

“And I’ve told you all summer long how much I love Camp Campbell!” 

Max rolled his eyes at David’s beaming face.

To finish up their shopping escapades they rounded to the home department and got Max a proper pillow and blanket. Max grabbed the most expensive plush blanket and pillow that he could find, David far from arguing. Max knew he had money and it wasn’t as if he thought Max deserved anything less than the best. Though it was partially out of guilt. His anxiety was still high from Max’s sudden question… And he was expecting more questions once they got home.

Max was quiet during the drive home, but that was mostly because he was exploring his new phone. David didn’t really... Know just how long he’d have Max. But the phone could go with him if something happened. He’d set it up with a few speed dial numbers and with unlimited data. Eventually Max would tire of TV and while David had his laptop this way Max had something that was entirely his.

Back at the apartment, David began to put away their purchases, musing about what to do for lunch. Max had taken up his favored position on the couch, resting against the pillow as he explored his new phone. Opening a cabinet, David noted the absence of an item that was typically kept here. Dangit, he’d left his medication in his suitcase from going to Camp Campbell. He also hadn’t taken them the last two nights. No wonder he’d been having trouble sleeping.

He went to his bedroom, digging the pills out of the pile of clothes and heading back to the kitchen. His movement out of Max's field of vision must’ve caught the kids interest, as he came back to Max watching him with suspicion. 

“What are those?”

David ignored him, grabbing a cup and filling it with water. He heard Max get off the couch and make his way to David.

“Hey. What **are** those?” He asked again, peering around David’s legs as he opened the pill bottle. “Are you sick or something? I mean besides the obvious thing.”

“Max…” David sighed. He downed the pill quickly and put the bottle in the cabinet. 

“Are you gonna tell me or-”

“They’re depression medication, Max.” David replied.

“Oh. Huh. I mean I always figured you were way too happy not to have been medicated.”

David made a face down at Max, though couldn’t really argue back. He didn’t even want to think how he would have been if he’d continued to forget taking them.

“So, why do you need them?”

“I mean, that isn’t obvious? I have depression.” David replied, starting to feel uncomfortable. To ease himself, he continued putting away the groceries. But Max wasn’t going to drop it.

“Well yeah but.. Why?”

David sighed, putting down the box of pasta he was about to put away before crouching down to Max’s level.

“Sometimes there isn’t a reason for it. And sometimes it’s made worse by other reasons.” David explained. “Mines a bit of both.”

Max was quiet for a moment and David took that as a cue perhaps he’d stop asking questions. The 10 year old stayed there, brows knit together in contemplation as David continued putting away the food. Out of the corner of his eye, David saw Max shove his hands in his hoodie front pocket.

“So…”

So much for being out of questions.

”Would you imagine him naked or with clothes? Or in his underwear?”

“W-what? Who?”

“The kid at the Walmart.”

Oh. David’s heart began hammering against his ribs and mouth went dry.

“You said I could ask.” Max prodded, noting David’s sudden stillness. His own words coming back to bite him. He mostly said it to stop Max from asking in a public place…

“Probably… a bit of all of it.” He admitted, putting up the last few items.

“So you **would** touch yourself thinking about him?”

“Max this… this isn’t appropriate to talk about!” David sputtered, feeling his face getting red as he turned to face Max. 

“Yeah well neither was jacking off while holding a struggling kid, but we already passed that point!” Max snapped. David tensed up, looking away guiltily. He could feel heat pooling below his stomach just thinking about it. 

After a few moments of painful silence, David finally spoke up;

“Do you have any other questions?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, plenty.” Max replied. David braced himself, but Max turned and went back to the couch. As the TV flickered on to life David found himself gripping his arm anxiously.

David spent the rest of the day avoiding Max and letting the kid watch his shows. He wasn’t sure if keeping distance would be for the better or the worst, but honestly he didn’t know what to do. He felt wrong in every choice he made. The mood had shifted so violently from the morning it made his head spin.

As he started cooking supper for them David wondered what Max was thinking about. He wanted to ask, but he didn’t feel like he deserved to ask anything of Max…

Max sat at the table with David when the food was ready, the silence between them still heavy and only adding to David’s guilt. Max mostly poked around the pasta David made, only eating a bite or two before retreating back to the couch. After cleaning up, David retreated to bed early, hoping the next day would be a bit better. A bit easier.

\--

Max watched as David retreated down the hall and closed his bedroom door behind him, head tilting to the side and making sure he heard the click of the door shut. When he did, he turned around and settled back onto the couch as the TV show droned on quietly. He didn’t know how to feel about… any of this. Not yet.

He pulled Mr. Honeynuts from his position on his new plush pillow, and hugged him. It smelled like camp now, not like home. It used to smell like home. Inside, his chest ached, felt hollow and empty. He wanted to ignore it but it was hard now that David wasn’t around to talk to. Not that he was talking to him. The boy curled up on the bear, tears streaking down his face again. 

It was stupid. He knew they would pull this bullshit. He knew they didn’t care. But… But it hurt so viscerally. Thinking he knew they were capable of this didn’t compare to seeing it, experiencing it first hand. It made him mad, a fire sparking inside and filling the emptiness with hatred. It felt better to be angry than it did to be sad, rolling the actions of his parents around in his mind to keep it burning.

After the show credits began to roll on the screen, Max slid off the couch, rubbing tears from his face. He grabbed a chair from the table and dragged it over to the hallway. He’d been doing it since… that night. Usually, Max trusted the counsellor. Hell, he was the one adult Max actually did think genuinely wanted to help him. But right now… He was a little scared of him. Scared enough to lock him in his own room at night so Max could sleep a little…

Yeah, it was his fault for going into his room in the first place. And hearing David moan his name. Can’t fault a kid for being curious. Remembering it made his stomach flip a little. Max quietly opened the bedroom door, the thin shaft of light from the hall falling across David’s sleeping form. He had his back to the door, on his side and balled up. Okay, good, he was sleeping. Max closed the door again and propped the chair under the doorknob so it wouldn’t open from the inside. There. Good. Safe.

He went back to the couch, sitting cross legged as late night TV shows started, Mr. Honeynuts standing guard by him.

Part of him wondered if his fear of David was warranted.

_Of course it was. Adults aren’t supposed to want to fuck kids. That makes him dangerous._

He made an exasperated noise and slid down the couch slightly. There was a reason he stayed, but even he really didn’t understand why right now. It was stupid. Almost as stupid as being upset at his shit parents actually turning out to be super shitty.

“Fuck this…” He mumbled, turning off the tv and pulling off his clothes. He put on his pajamas and wrapped himself up in the soft blanket David had bought for him, squeezing his eyes shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more mischief, a smidge of David's backstory, and some introspection from Max~


	4. Chapter 4

David walked passed the couch, hurrying for his cell phone that he’d left in his room. As he passed, Max let out a snarky laugh and pointed at something on the television. He gave a fond smile to the boy as he went. His phone was lit up with an icon of Gwen’s unimpressed face in the middle.

“Go~~~od morning Gwen! How have you been?” He sang as he answered.

“Hey David. Actually kinda weird?” She admitted.

He walked out of his room, leaning against the doorway to the loungeroom to check in on Max. Gwen kept talking in his ear.

“Some ‘Unknown Number’ has been prank calling me at, like, 9 or 10 at night? Super annoying but also weird? I mean, who does that at 9 at night? I’m not even asleep by then.”

“Oh, Gwen! I’m sorry someone’s been bugging you like that.”

“Eh, it’s just annoying is all. Besides, it’s only been happening for, like, a day or two?”

David’s brow creased and he looked from the television to Max.

“Gwen, what was the number that’s been calling you?”

“I told you - it’s an Unknown-”

“Oh, I mean the literal number.”

“Oh, yeah, duh, right. Hang on.”

David heard a few beeps from his end before Gwen returned to recite the number. Just as David suspected, he recognised it. He walked up to the couch, using his free hand to ruffle Max’s hair.

“Oh that wasn’t a prank caller! Maxie just wanted to talk to you!” 

Gwen questioned; “What? Did he steal your phone or something?”

“Oh! No I bought him a phone. I thought.. The independence would be good for him. Oh! Was that okay to give him your number?”

Max had squirmed around after fending off David’s hand and had now moved on to trying to leave the lounge room, one eye on the phone in the man’s other hand and looking partially horrified at it.

“Oh yeah, that’s okay. Good for him to have contacts, I guess?” Gwen reassured.

Putting his mouth away from the receiver, he asked, “Did you want to talk to Gwen, Max?”

“What? No! Why the fuck would I want to talk to that loser?” Max interrupted with a shout, trying to squirm out of the sudden grip David had on his hoodie.

He crossed his arms defiantly but still both of them could hear Gwen laughing through the line. She shouted through the phone, clearly talking to Max instead of David.

“Then why did you call me last night, ya dweeb?! Come on ya little-” her voice lowered in volume, “David, put Max on. If he wants to talk then we can talk.”

“Ha ha, sounds peachy!”

David passed the phone off and Max reluctantly took it. With a heavy sigh he greeted her;

“Hey, Gwen.”

“Quit crank calling me, ya little shit.”

“I was butt dialling you!”

On her side of town, Gwen laughed at his defiance.

“Sure you were, gremlin. Okay, come on then. How’ve you been enjoying hanging with David twenty-four seven? I’m surprised you haven’t made good on murdering him yet.”

“It’s… been _marginally_ better than Camp Campbell. So I’m holding off on murder. For now.”

“Woah, that’s practically a compliment from you. Geez, he’s still in that dingy apartment, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but I get the T.V. to myself so that’s cool, I guess.”

“Nice. And how are you settling in. After, ah…”

She heard Max adjust and his next words came through more quietly.

“It’s okay. I’m just not giving them the time of day, not thinking about it. I already knew they didn’t care. So, I’m moving on. Should’ve done this ages ago.”

Gwen hummed in agreement. It was strange, she thought, but something about learning that Max’s parents had literally abandoned him… It made her want to be there for him more. Like learning that he didn’t have his parents there for him somehow gave her permission to actually give a damn about the kid - beyond what she needed to do professionally.

“Yeah, fuck those guys! You’re way better than that, Max.”

There was a pause.

“Are you okay, Gwen? You sound… You sound like David.”

“What? You mean happy? I can be happy. I’m not working for Campbell anymore, after all.”

“Yeah but,” Another pause, and even quieter came his voice; “Why do you care how I’m going? I’m David’s problem now, not yours. I’m not a camper anymore. This isn’t your job.”

She felt a pang in her chest. The kind of life this kid had been put through…

“Max,” she started, heartfelt, “You’re right. It’s not my job to care anymore. It’s not David’s job, either. So why the fuck do you **think** we’re still caring about you?”

The line was quiet and Gwen could almost imagine the puzzled, searching look on Max’s cute little face.

“And before you hurt yourself, I’ll give you the answer. It’s because we give a damn, okay? Now we’re caring ‘cause we want to. So suck it up because we’re here to stay.”

A pause and then a poorly concealed snuffle. She smiled on her end of the line.

“Whatever. You wanna talk to David some more?”

“Yeah, put him back on.” There was a shuffle on the other end of the call before she was brought back to David’s cheery voice.

“Gwen! Have fun talking with Maxie~?”

She could hear Max shouting in protest and guessed that David had ruffled his hair.

“Ah give him a break, David. You’re lucky the little fucker hasn’t, like, sledgehammered your walls or something.”

“Oh it’s not so bad! I think he’s having fun. We went shopping the other day!”

“Of course you found **shopping** fun. How much of your house has he destroyed, anyway?”

“What?! None! Gwen, really, he’s being very well behaved.”

“Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it. How are you even keeping a ten-year-old entertained in your apartment. I mean your place is so small it only has the one bedroom.”

“He sleeps on the couch! I- I mean I wouldn’t make him sleep- um-”

“Hm? Oh yeah, that makes sense. You’d be too tall for it, really. No wonder T.V. is the first thing he told me about if you’ve got him set-up on the couch.”

“I’d encourage him to get out and get some fresh air but… Well, I thought he deserved some space after... after everything.”

She mentally dismissed the waver in his voice, pressing on.

“And you’re avoiding the question. How are you dealing with this, anyway?”

“What?” came David’s strained rebuttal.

“Suddenly having to deal with a ten year old? I know Max was kinda your favourite at camp but this is something else.”

She waited while David thought on it.

“It’s been good. I’m just glad I could be there for him, y’know? Still,” his voice grew hard, “His parents better hope we don’t ever cross paths, or I might just have something more than strong words for them.”

“Woah! Careful David, that was almost badass.”

“Heh, well. And how have you been, Gwen?” She could tell he was dodging the question.

“Oh, you know. Either I’m under qualified or overqualified these days. So job hunting is going as terrible as ever.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something soon enough!”

“Eh, might not be soon enough to keep my apartment. Especially with Camp Campbell shut down.”

“Hmm. Well, I know it’s not where you want to end up, but Summer **is** finishing. There must be a lot of supermarkets and department stores losing a lot of student employees who now have new openings?”

“Shit, clerk work. But yeah, you’re right. It’s either settle or move back in with my parents. Fuck, I hate playing nice with customers though. At least I could swear around the kids when they were being little shits.”

“Ah, you probably-”

“But adults will ‘ _report you_ ’ and get you fired for ‘ _profanity_ ’.”

She sighed heavily, switching the ear she held her phone pressed to as she sat at her computer. She may as well start looking at some local businesses.

“Hey, so, David. What are you going to do? With Max?” She pushed.

“O-oh. Well I mean there’s still some of that paperwork we need to fill out for the CIA so I was going to try finish that up while Max-”

“No, I meant. In the long run. Are you going to call Child Services or…?”

The line went quiet. Gwen waited and then when it remained quiet for an awkward amount of time;

“David?”

“Sorry. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Yeah. I guess I should.”

“Tell them what happened. Hopefully they’ll just put him straight into the foster system. Or, y’know, he’s ten. Good chance he’ll get adopted.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I know you’ll be sad to see him go, David, but you know you’ve gotta call them.”

“I know.”

“...And you know you have to tell him, right?”

“What?”

“You have to tell Max about it. That’s not something you can spring on a kid, especially not one like Max.”

“Mmm. You’re right, Gwen. You’re such a good friend!”

Gwen rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Yeah, yeah - what would you do without me. Okay, I better get back to job hunting, as much as it’s **killing** me. Good luck with satan!”

“Heh, thanks Gwen. Good luck with the job hunt! I’m sure you’ll do great!”

“Ha, I wish. Later.”

“See ya, Gwen!”

\---

David spat toothpaste into the bowl of the sink and watched it dribble around the drain. He looked back up at the mirror. He wasn’t looking so great. His hair was starting to droop, though his perpetual cowlick still valiantly tried to point up.

He hadn’t showered since Max got here. He’d been too preoccupied that first night and after that… Well it had never seemed appropriate. If Max was going to stay here for longer than a few nights, though, it would be a necessity. Even worse - Max was going to have to attend to his self care too.

The shadow of bags under his eyes weren’t a promising look, either.

He ran the tap, taking the cup from the side of the sink and gargling before heading out of the bathroom. He stepped just inside of the lounge room and faced the couch. He eyed the floor between him and the couch apprehensively before crossing to face Max.

“Alright, almost bedtime. Time to get back into some good habits; you’d better go brush your teeth. You still have your toiletries from camp, don’t you?”

Max rolled his eyes, righting himself from his slouch across the couch.

“Fine, whatever.”

“And-” David halted, the words catching in his throat. This sounded be hard to say and he hated that he was clearly having such trouble. He’d been fine telling the kids at camp all Summer. But it was different now. It was different when it was him telling Max, alone, in his apartment. Alone.

He clenched his jaw then flicked his gaze down, away from Max.

“And you’ll need to have a shower, too.”

The silence in the air was palpable. Still boring a hole in the floor, he added;

“I’ll just go wait in my room.”

“I’ll **bet** you will.”

David looked up at that, finding Max with a small yet furious frown on his face.

“Not-! Not like that! I just meant I’ll stay out of your way. I can.. I can talk a walk around the block!”

David’s face bent with worry and Max’s look smoothed out, turning considering. David tried not to shake as he waited for judgement.

“You can stay out here. It’s fine.”

Max finished getting up off the couch and kneeled by his duffle bag to retrieve his toiletries and pajamas. David watched him warily as he walked off down the hall, hearing as he opened the linen closet for a towel. He heard the bathroom door shut a moment afterwards and he let out a huff, flopping down onto the couch.

That had gone as well as it could’ve in his mind. He picked up the remote, turning up the television and trying to veg-out while Max went through his nightly routine.

About half an hour later, Max opened the bathroom door, his pajama pants on and his shirt tied around his waist. He had his towel over his head, trying to dry his thick bundles of hair. He could tell where he was going just by looking down at the floor.

He headed into the lounge room, around the front of the couch. He could hear the television from the bathroom once he’d turned the shower off so he knew David must be out here.

“Hey David,” he started as he flopped his head back to look at the ex-counsellor, now toweling the sides of his hair, “Can I stay up and watch _Jaws, Claws and_ -”

He cut off, taking in David’s expression. The man’s lips hung open just, a blush heavy across his nose and light across his cheeks. His eyes did not meet Max’s face.

Max looked down, following the gaze, and caught sight of his own torso. He hadn’t put his shirt on because he hadn’t dried off yet. He knew from experience that he had to dry his hair first otherwise it would just drip all over his shirt. So currently he was standing in just his pajama pants, his bare and flat chest with soft droplets running down it.

And David was staring.

A disturbed shiver ran down his spine and he felt his stomach curdle. He dropped his towel from his head, draping it over his shoulders and wrapping it around himself.

Only when he was covered did David look up, startled and with a guilty look in his eyes. Guilty and… Scared. **He** was scared? Why was **he** scared?

David stood, looking like a newborn gazelle.

“I- I’m sorry.”

He looked like he was about to say something else, but instead he just fled from the room. Max stood there for a moment, hugging his towel to himself, then followed David and ‘locked’ his door from the outside. Only when that was done did he return to the lounge room, finish drying and getting dressed. He sat on the couch, Mr. Honeynuts in his lap and the remote in his hand, ready to stay up for _Jaws, Claws and Fangs_ but… He found he couldn’t keep his eyes focused on the television anymore. Annoyed, he slumped down onto the couch and curled up under his blanket.

\---

David watched Max with half an eye as the boy poked and pushed his food around his plate. While most of David’s pork chops were picked to the bone and he was almost finishing his steamed vegetables, Max’s chops had been strategically cut so that just one square of meat had been removed from each. His vegetables were untouched aside from being moved about the plate.

David leveled a stern look at him, Max shooting a belligerent look back up at him.

“Max,” he sternly started.

“David.” Max mimicked back.

“You need to eat more of you dinner.”

“I don’t want to. I ate all the meat.”

“You’ve barely eaten any of your pork chops!”

“The rest is just gristle. It’s gross.”

“Well, okay. I suppose that’s alright. But you do need to eat some of your greens.”

“They taste like crap.”

“Max, language! Now I know they might not be your favourite, but they’re still good for you. I want to see you eat half of what’s on your plate, young man.”

David’s face was set in a stern look and he gave himself an encouraging little nod when Max looked up at him. Max’s bright eyes flicked between his for a moment before the boy put his knife and fork down.

“Max…” David warned.

But he was ignored in favour of Max reaching down to grab his sweater and pull it over his head. Oh - not just his sweater but his shirt, too. He dumped both on the floor beside him and he looked up at David and-

There was a fire in the boy’s eyes.

David flicked his gaze from his face back down to his chest. He belatedly realised what Max was doing and felt a flush start to creep across his face. Tearing his sight away from the boy’s bare chest, he looked back up at his smirking face and tried to remain stern.

“Max, y-you need to eat-”

He choked off his sentence as Max stretched, reaching his arms high above his head and puffing his little chest out. At the peak of his stretch, he squinted open an eye to stare at David. He really, really wished Max would stop smirking like that. It was making it difficult to not look at his rosy lips and when he tried not to look at them his eyes wandered down to drink in the sight of his bare chest instead.

David could deal with seeing shirtless kids. He’d worked at Camp Campbell long enough that he’d been forced to learn how to deal with it. He still had palpitations on bad days, but on good days he could ignore the sight completely.

But this was different. Very, very different. This was Max purposefully stripping off. Max showing off his half-naked body because he knew what it did to him. Because he wanted David to be flustered and embarrassed and **turned on**. That knowledge made all the difference and he couldn’t help but shift in his seat as Max pinned him with his gaze.

He could feel his heart beating against the inside of his ribs, his eyes unable to remain in one place as he wildly oscillated between panicking about looking and desperately needing to drink it in. Max relaxed back down into his seat, his gaze still locked onto David’s agitated form.

“They taste like crap. I’m not eating them.”

Fuck, he’d completely forgotten that that was what had come before all this. He finally wrestled himself under some sort of control and sunk his gaze down onto his plate, his head bowed down.

“Mm. Okay. Alright.” he mumbled, now trying to be engrossed by the last bits of food on his own plate.

There was a self-satisfied sound from the other side of the table and after a minute he heard the scrape of a chair and the sound of what was probably Max leaving the table. David didn’t stop staring down at his plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we begin to see Max being a dangerous little shit


	5. Chapter 5

David fumbled the cell phone as he tried to catch it. Max had thrown it at him just as he’d entered the lounge room.

“Max! Don’t throw electronics around!”

“Pfft. What are you going to do, ground me?”

“I might just do that, young man!”

“Good luck.”

David tried not to think about the look that Max paired with that dare as he realised the screen was lit up. He put the cell to his ear.

“Gwen!”

“So Max is as much a little shit as ever, huh?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that-” he looked up at Max, whom he discovered making mocking faces at him. He didn’t stop when David caught him, “But yes.”

He turned and headed out of the room, walking into the corridor so as to afford everyone a bit of privacy.

“I didn’t even hear my phone ring! Max picked up?”

“He hung up the first time, but I called back. Uh, he already knows most swear words, right?”

“I think- Wait what did you say to him?!”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Anyway! Do you want to hear about my latest shitty interview?”

“Aw, Gwen. Job hunt not going well?”

“Oh it’s going great except I think the last place I applied to is breaking so many fresh produce laws. They’re selling ‘exotic green meat’, David. It’s disgusting. I think I lucked out on being rejected from there, actually.”

“Oh. You didn’t just excuse yourself? Rescind your application?”

“What? Hell no! If they’d offered me a job I absolutely would’ve taken it.”

David made a face at the wall and reminded himself that Gwen was an adult woman who could make her own decisions about her ethical limits.

“Anyway. It’s been, what, half a week with Max? No, more; you got him on Saturday.”

“Six days, including Saturday.” David noted.

“Yeah. He still glued to the T.V.?”

“He’s been using his phone a bit, too. It has some games on it and I… _think_ he’s downloaded some more.”

“As long as it’s keeping him busy, I guess. Hey, how’d he take the whole ‘Child Services’ thing?”

David pressed his lips, glancing down the corridor as Max let out a mean sounding laugh at something on T.V.

“David.” Gwen didn’t even sound scolding, just flat, “You’ve told him. Right?”

“I’ve… been waiting for the right time?” His voice pitched up at his flakey excuse.

“David. The right time is **sooner** rather than **later**.”

“I know... I just… He’s not going to like it. I… I don’t want to hurt him.”

“I know. Look, I’m just saying. Max isn’t the type of kid who’s going to appreciate this being kept from him. The longer you put it off, the more it’s going to hurt him.”

David nodded, his eyes downcast, before remembering that Gwen couldn’t actually see him.

“Yes, Gwen. I...” he sighed heavily, “You’re right.”

“He might get mad now, but he’ll realise you’re just looking out for him. This is you caring for him, David. It’s for the best.”

“For the best.” David listlessly repeated.

“Mmhm.” the was a pause before, “Look, I can come over and tell him instead, if you can’t. Or I can ring him and tell him.”

“Thank you Gwen, but no. I’ll do it.” he heaved a sigh, “We need to have this talk.”

“ So, when?”

“...Tomorrow. Or… maybe the day after?”

“David!”

“At the latest! I promise!”

He could practically hear her eyeroll.

“Okay. But I’m fucking holding you to that.”

“Aw, you’re always so supportive, Gwen!”

“I’m just going to pretend that was you being sarcastic because it’s easier to stomach that way. Okay, I have to go buy, like, a month’s worth of ramen to live off of.”

“I’m not sure you can live off of just noodles.”

“Fucking watch me, David. Anyway, so I gotta go. I’m calling you in two days time to check that you’ve told him, okay? Okay. Later.”

“Goodbye, Gwen!”

He hung up and slipped the phone into a pocket of his shorts, walking back down the corridor to peer around the door into the lounge room. Max was sat where he’d left him, watching some cartoons fight on the television. He seemed to be running snarky commentary on the show, a bag of chips open next to him and his blanket bundled around him. David should speak to him about that - he’ll get crumbs in his bed.

He sighed softly to himself, leaning against the door. He knew why he didn’t want to mention anything. Because then things would change. He just wanted to pretend that everything was okay for a little longer.

But this wasn’t sustainable. He knew he couldn’t keep this going. Every night was a struggle, every day a stress. Max needed a proper family, someone to care for him.

He needed someone better than David.

* * *

David didn’t know how to bring it up. _When_ to bring it up. The next day he was walking on eggshells, brain racing with anxiety on how Max would react. Max didn’t know anything, of course. He picked at his breakfast and went to his daily routine of watching T.V., scrolling on his phone while he did.

Maybe they could… go for a walk. No, no, telling him in any public space would probably backfire right in his face. During dinner when they sat together was an idea… God, he didn’t want to do it. Max made it clear he wanted to stay with David, but he was sure it was only because the kid knew he had David wrapped around his finger.  And David often wondered if he truly cared about the child, or if he was just waiting for another opportunity. He didn’t want to think he was, but he was still thrown for a loop when Max pulled his stunts.

By now, guilt was his primary driving force in this task presented before him. Max wasn’t safe here. David wasn’t safe.

From his bedroom, David sighed and rubbed his temples. Okay, he had to do it. He was going to go and talk to Max, then get in contact with child protective services and make sure Max was taken care of. And not with him.

Max was on the couch some documentary about rioting around the world playing. As he approached, David took a deep breath and looked down at the boy.

“Hey, David?” Max asked, causing David to jump from his deep thoughts.

“Yeah, Max?”

“Can I order this movie?”

David blinked and looked at the T.V. screen as Max pulled up the pay-per view channels. He sailed passed the adult section - _thank god_ \- but stopped on what looked like a horror movie. David’s face pulled down in a heavy and exaggerated grimace as he eyed the R rating and warnings. Extreme violence and gore, mild nudity, language… And the description that hailed it as a gory masterpiece wasn’t helping him either.

“Max, I don’t think this movie is really appropriate for your age group.” David replied in a firm voice as he crossed his arms. “Plus It’ll probably give you nightmares.”

“What? No way, I’ve seen way worse than this.” Max scoffed in reply.

“Well, my answer is no. I really don’t think you need to be watching that.”

Max turned to look up at him a pout on his lip. Oh no, it looked cute… Then he stood up on the couch and turned to face David. David watched in confusion as Max pulled off his sweater showing off his T-shirt.

“Max…” David said warningly.

Max pulled off his t-shirt, exposing his bare chest raising and falling with slightly exaggerated breaths. David turned to the side, putting up a hand as a blinder as the constricting heat hit him again in the chest. How many times was he going to keep doing this…

“You’re not looking at me, so I’m just gonna let you know I’m flipping you off.”

“Max-”

“What? Gonna tell me off for how ‘inappropriate’ it is for me to watch a goddamn horror movie while you’re getting hard from just looking at my **chest**?”

_Check and mate…_ David let out a small sound of exasperation. He was between a rock and a hard place.

“Thought so.”

There was shuffling and then Max audibly dropping back to the seated position on the couch.

“I have my shirt on.” He heard Max tell him. David dropped his hand and took a breath.

“Fine. This one time, you can order that movie…”

“Mhmm.” Went Max as he added the movie to David’s cable bill, settling into the couch. David sighed.

He was supposed to have talked to Max about child services… But no way was he about to do that now. It would have to be tomorrow. For now he needed a cool shower.

* * *

David had been texting Gwen through the following morning for support. She swore she’d call in the evening to make sure he followed through, but knew just how anxious it was making David to have to bring this up with Max.

That afternoon, David took a seat on the reclining chair by the couch and turned off the T.V.

“Hey, I was watching--”

“We need to talk, Max.” David cut off. Max had no retort, brows knit together curiously. He even put down his phone.

“Am I in trouble?” He asked with an uneasy tone. David blinked.

“No! No, not at all,” David started. “If… If anything, I’m the one in trouble.”

Max waited, his initial anxiety quelled but a new one growing in his chest.

“It’s been about a week and a half since I took you in, Max. And… And I still don’t understand why you’d want to stay. You should hate me, and be scared of me, and I… I want you to be safe, Max. I want you to grow in a happy home with a good family and I’m just not that!”

Max’s eyes widened, glancing off to the side as if looking at David was too difficult.

“It’s not that I don’t care for you, I really do. I just think it’s safer if you don’t live with me, and I know you’ll find a good family quickly since you’re so young, so I’m going to have to bring you to Child Protective Services and- and have them sort out everything that happened.”

Max was still avoiding looking at him, eyes wide and pupils constricted to small dots. David’s chest was feeling tight, the squeeze going up his throat. He swallowed.

“You just want to get rid of me, too.”

The words cut worse than any knife could have.

“No, Max, it’s not-”

“And to think I fucking thought you cared.” Max’s chest was heaving with deep breaths, eyes glossing over with the first hints of tears. Before David could reply, Max continued, looking David in the eye. “What was all this shit then, David?! You-you let me stay here, and-and buy me this shit, and for what?! To tell me you’re gonna be slightly nicer than my shit ass parents and actually drive me to where you want to ditch me?!”

“I’m not trying to get rid of you, Max-”

“Well you have a shit way of showing that, **David** .” Max stood up now, hands balled into fists and shaking. “I thought- I thought you were going to be **different**. Does Gwen know, too? She want me out of here as soon as fucking possible? Were both of you just fucking pretending the whole time?!”

“Neither of us were pretending!” David said hotly. He couldn’t do this. But he had to. “We both care about you, Max. We’re both worried for you but I’m not- I can’t take care of a kid, Max. I live in a little apartment and- and you know why I can’t have you in here… I want you to be safe and- and have a normal life.”

“A little late for that, asshole!” Max was yelling now. “How normal a life can a ten-year-old whose parents ditched them at a summer camp be? Not even just ditched me. They fucking- **MOVED**. They left, on purpose, leaving me behind, and alone.” Tears were causing his words to stutter. David wanted to hug him, biting the inside of his cheek. “It’s not like they died, they just couldn’t bother to- to take care of thier own fucking kid.”

“Max-”

“And now you’re the same. You don’t want to deal with me either, so you fucking planned to drop me on the steps of some fucking government agency to hope, _to hope_ , I get adopted and have some fucking normal ass life?!”

“Max, you need to stop yelling-”

“ **Or what?!** You’ll fucking _**rape**_ me?”

“ **THAT’S WHAT I’M TRYING TO AVOID!** ”

A sudden and shocked silence fell over Max. David had leapt to his feet, mirroring Max’s balled fist with his face red. Max’s shoulders slumped, losing tension as his eyes fell to the ground. Tears dribbled off his chin silently.

“It’s for the best.” David said in a lower and calm voice. He turned and went to his room.

With his back to the door, David slid down and pulled his knees up to his chest. His heart was like a jackhammer in his ribcage, almost hurting him. He didn’t meant to yell at Max, especially not that. But Max needed to understand. This was not good. This was not safe. He took a few moments to compose himself. Max would… probably want time as well.

He came out a few moments later, having cooled off. He hoped Max would understand, maybe not right now but… Someday. David was a danger to Max, and he couldn’t live with himself if he made the kid worse.

“Max?” David called gently, walking into the living room.

The T.V. was still off, and the apartment had an eerie silence over it. An empty silence. Davids’ eyes widened in panic as a lump formed in his throat. Max wasn’t here. The blanket and pillow had been tossed onto the floor and Max, his duffle bag, and Mr. Honeynuts were nowhere to be seen.

_Oh no._

“Max?!”

David quickly slid on his shoes, a chorus of unbroken ‘ _fuck_ ’s going through his brain. Where had Max gone? Had he run away? How far could he have gotten, he was so small… This part of town wasn’t dangerous at least, but… but anyone could’ve grabbed him… His brain jumped to the worst case scenarios. Max beaten, murdered. Max raped. At least he **cared** about the kid. He wanted to do all that but he cared. If someone was as bad as him and they **didn’t** care, didn’t see Max’s potential...

He raced down the stairs of the apartment building, nearly slipping on the last grated step but catching himself before he landed face first in the gravel parking lot. Trotting to the sidewalk, David looked in either direction.

Then he caught sight of him, a small ways down the road with his duffle bag over his shoulder. Oh, thank god. David began to jog towards him as he turned a corner.

“Max!” He called out. Though he was sure Max could hear him, the kid just picked up his speed to walk faster. “Max, wait.”

“Go away, David.” He spat as David caught up to him, panting.

“Max, where are you going?”

“Away. That’s what you want, right?” He snapped.

“No, Max. I don’t want you to run away-”

“What, afraid I’ll find a pedophile to take me away?” He was lashing out, purposefully digging to hurt David, to make him stop. But he couldn’t.

“Among other things.” David admitted. He grabbed Max by the shoulder.

“Hey-! Fucking let go of me! I’ll be fine, and you won’t have to deal with me or thinking about me or anything.”

“I don’t want this, Max.” David said, Max still trying to pull away from him but with less obvious effort. “I just don’t want to hurt you and-”

“Is something going on here?” A woman called from her car, window rolled down as she slowed up to them.

David froze, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. He felt his heartbeat turn erratic, his muscles trying to tense but refusing to actually move. His mouth felt glued together and his eyes couldn’t blink for the life of him. This looked bad. This looked really fucking bad.

“Kid? Do you know this man? Is he bothering you?” She asked when David didn’t reply, obviously concerned now. David looked at Max, who had leaned back slightly into David’s grip. He could do it. He could end it all right now.

After what felt like an eternity, Max spoke.

“Nah, he’s just my dad.” Max replied shrugging and lying smoothly. David tried not to allow his confusion to show on his face. He was fully expecting Max to tell her he was a stranger trying to get him...

The woman’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, dark eyes going between Max and David.

“But- he’s white?” She asked in confusion. Max frowned at her.

“Yeah, and I fucking said he was my dad, isn’t that enough for you?”

The woman gaped like a fish, tinges of pink coloring her cheeks as she put her car into drive and began to continue down the road.

“Way to act like interracial kids don’t exist, bitch!” Max yelled after her, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Max…” David said softly.

“Shut up. Just… Shut up.” He replied. “Take me back to the apartment…”

David released his shoulder and put a hand on the duffle bag on his back instead. Max leaned into him as they walked and David felt something warm in his chest. Not something dark and filthy, no. Something loving. Max had called him Dad…

* * *

 

Back at the apartment, David and Max sat on the couch, sitting in silence. David had his hands clasped together, wringing them every few moments. They had to talk about this but neither one of them seemed keen to initiate. But, Max had come back, had told a stranger he was his dad. The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest was still there, soft and pure.

“If you take me to child services, I’ll tell them.”

David looked up at Max, the child’s eyes narrow and looking away from David.

“You don’t need to threaten me, Max.” Said David softly. “But we do need to talk about it.”

“I don’t **want** to talk about it.”

“I know. I don’t ether. But you know I’m not… safe.” David’s stomach was squirming.

“I don’t care.”

David frowned;

“You should. You should have called the police that night, or told Gwen. Were you going to, when you kept calling her at night?”

Max shrugged, still avoiding eye contact.

“I didn’t. And I won’t.” Max stated.

“But… but why, Max? I’m. Not a good person.” David couldn’t understand it. Why was he so insistent on sitting in a dangerous predicament? David had seen the look on his face when he caught him the first night. It was the same the other night after Max had taken a shower. He was scared. So then why didn’t he do anything about it?

A sniffle dragged him back to reality. Max was crying again, lower lip trembling. David froze. What had he said?

“You’re the only one who ever really cared for me.” Max said, voice shaking. “Why would I put the one idiot who actually wanted me around in jail?”

David’s throat hurt, swallowing hard. It wasn’t till a tear splashed against his hand that he realized he was crying, too. How was he supposed to react to that?

“I don’t care what you do. Or what you are.” Max said, wiping his nose on a sleeve. "You can say my name and touch yourself as much as you want, just don't send me away!"

“Oh… Max…” David felt like his heart was shattering into a million pieces, Max going from sniffles to sobbing. It made sense now. What his parents did to him didn’t extend to just this one summer… And it was still affecting him. David shifted closer to Max, reaching out to hug him. “Oh, can I-?”

Before he could even phrase the question, Max had already thrown himself into David’s arms. David hugged him close, mind racing. This wasn’t good, he knew it wasn’t. But he…. He couldn’t abandon Max. He could be careful with Max, he could keep himself in check… He could figure this out. Right?

“I won’t… take you to child services, Max.” David said. “We can figure this out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the authors make each other cry almost as much as Max and David make each other cry.
> 
> Also heads up! We'll be skipping next weeks usually scheduled update because half of us will be on vacation and the other half will be finishing university work. Please bare with us! We think the wait will be worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

As promised, Gwen rang that night. Instead of promptly answering as he usually did, David looked down at the buzzing phone in his hand for a few long seconds. For once in his life, he didn’t really want to answer. Because Gwen was going to ask questions and he only barely had answers for any of them. Half the answers were trapped in Max’s head and the others he suspected neither of them knew. Too many were hidden behind his dirty secret. He loved Gwen to pieces, but sharing what a monster he was was another level of trust entirely. A level he didn’t think he ever wanted to share.

Just as his phone screen went dark again and he felt a surge of panic - he’d left it too long and it had rung out, surely - and he quickly swiped the answer button. The phone lit up, the symbol that a call was in progress on the screen.

“Hello, Gwen.” he tried to inject his usual level of cheer into the greeting.

“Didn’t go well, then?”

Apparently he hadn’t passed muster. He sighed into the phone, not giving Gwen a proper answer. How was he even going to explain this.

“What did he say about being taken to Child Services?”

How did he explain that Max couldn’t bare to leave him? That his parents had been so neglectful that the boy had found comfort in a **pedophile**?

“David?”

Well, he wouldn’t say that last part. But nonetheless.

“David you **did** talk to him, right?”

“I did. I- I’m not taking him to Child Services.”

“What?”

“I’m keeping him.”

The line was quiet before, at a volume that had him yank his phone away from his ear, he heard Gwen shout;

“Oh! Em! Gee!”

And then the dial tone in his ear.

David’s eyes went wide. What had happened? Had she-? He flicked through his contacts, bringing up Gwen’s number and calling her back. He had to wait a while for an answer;

“Hi, this is Gwen.”

“Hi, Gwen! What ha-”

Gwen’s voice cut him off; “If you’re calling to offer a job please call me back! I swear I always answer my phone! I must be in an emergency.”

Right, it was her voicemail. He waited until her message had finished then left a frantic message of his own, asking what had happened. He rung again, ten minutes later, and then yet again five minutes after that.

Twenty minutes after Gwen had hung up on him, there was a heavy series of knocks at his door. David jumped, a squeal escaping his lips. He heard Max snicker from the doorway.

“Calm down, camp man. It’s just someone at the door.”

“Oh, right, yes, okay.”

He noticed that Max hung back, practically out of sight, as he headed to the door. His thoughts were still mostly on Gwen and if he didn’t think it rude to be on the phone while greeting someone he’d have called her back for the third time. As it was, he sent her a brief text, asking if she was alright.

As he opened his front door, he heard Gwen’s text tone go off.

Sure enough, there was Gwen, standing in his doorway. Her hair was in a hasty ponytail, stray strands of hair around her face. She had a large sweater on over her shirt and shorts and her feet had been shoved, sockless, into a pair of sneakers.

She was wearing on of the biggest grins he had ever seen on her face.

“You’re **adopting** him?!” she shouted with no concern for his neighbours.

“What?” he asked back, his face frozen from confusion.

Gwen pushed passed him, inviting herself inside and David shut the door behind her in a daze. As he followed her into the lounge room, he noticed that Max was nowhere in sight.

“You’re adopting the little shit! David that's **adorable**. Oh my god, you're going to be the most insufferable dad. Max is going to hate it, this will be so fucking funny.”

She dropped her handbag on the couch then seemed to take a second look at where she’d dropped it.

“Holy shit, he even has his dumb teddy bear out on the couch.”

From the depths of the apartment, they both heard;

“Mr. Honeynuts is smarter than you’ll ever be, Gwen!”

Revealing that Max had hidden himself somewhere further inside. This revelation seemed to set Gwen off once more.

“Ha ha! How's it feel to have David as your new dad, satan?!”

“How's it feel to have to move back into your parents’ place?!” Was his ever sharp retort.

This dropped Gwen's gleeful expression, her eyes flicking to and fro looking lost for a moment.

“Max!” David called into the apartment, “That was very rude. Come out and apologise to Gwen this instant.”

Max finally shuffled out into the lounge room from wherever he’d been hiding, his hands customarily shoved into his hoodie pouch. As he walked around to jump up and take a seat on the couch, he replied;

“What? She knows it's true.”

Gwen took a seat next to him, her glee returning at the sight of Max though, thankfully, not in full force. David took the recliner, looking between the two.

“Okay, no, we’re not talking about the horrible job market. We're talking about David totally adopting you! Oh, it's just so cute! Somehow I always knew it would come to this.”

“Gwen how could you possibly know that?”

“I knew it in my gut.”

Max sported a wicked grin; “Oh so it was a **big** feeling then, was it?”

She frowned and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

“Max!” David snapped again, aghast.

But luckily Gwen seemed to recover from her upset state quickly.

“So, when is it official? Max, are you taking David's surname? Hey,” she rubbed her chin thoughtfully, “What is your surname anyway?”

Max was looked down, picking at a stray thread on his sweater. David looked distinctly uncomfortable as he stuttered out an answer.

“W-well. You see-. Gwen. We thought that-. Uh. In this case it's better if-. Um. Well. Sometimes-. Uh.”

Gwen leveled a look at him, a look she used to reserve for when David came up with 'creative’ ideas for the camp.

“David.”

She saw him start to sweat, avoiding her eyes. She deciding to circumvent him altogether and turn her gaze to Max instead. He seemed relaxed, but she could see the signs that he was pretending. Leaning back a bit too far, only one hand out of his hoodie pocket.

“David did actually call CPS to get you adopted, right?”

Max glared up at her.

“He’s a camp counselor - an **ex** -camp counselor - Gwen. There’s no fucking way CPS would make him my guardian. They would just put me back with my shitty parents. Or worse, in some bullshit foster home with eight other stupid kids where I’d probably just get fucking beaten by some drunk dad or junkie mom.”

“I wouldn't put it quite like that, but… Yes. If we called Child Protective Services we thought… well they’d try to find Max’s parents. Not that that’s bad but they’d try put him back with them and…” Said David.

None of them spoke as the unsaid rang around them.

“So… We thought we’d skip the hassle and I’d just… Let him stay here.”

He almost mentioned that it was Max’s idea, that **he** wanted to stay here. That for some crazy reason Max thought David was the best option. But he knew Max would hate him bringing that up - he’d tell her later. Maybe after Max was in bed.

Gwen had her lips pursed, apparently considering this.

“I… guess that makes sense. I heard they don’t like kids getting adopted by people with close connections to them, anyway? Fuck it, I guess that works.”

She paused before a smile started to creep onto her face. Max held up a finger;

“No- Don’t!”

She grinned harder; “Besides, you’re still **basically** his Dad.”

“Urgh don’t say that out loud.” Max groaned, pulling his hood down over his face.

Gwen laughed at him as he continued to grumble about terminology. Leaving the boy to his grumbles, she turned to David, slipping off a shoe and tucking her leg under her.

“So, is this basically his room now? You’ll probably have to look for a place with two bedrooms, y’know. Oh! Have you found a new job, yet? Or I guess you have whatever you do during the off-season?”

Max emerged from his hood, a peculiar look dawning on his face. David replied;

“Ah! Yes I suppose I’ll have to start looking for a new place for- for us.” he smiled weakly at Max who was not looking at him, “I’m sure it can wait for a bit, though. We only just decided tonight, after all. No need to rush.”

“Yeah, that works. Oh, but what about school? You can’t enroll him if you haven’t adopted him, right? And, I mean,” she gave a sideways glance at Max, hesitated, then barreled forward anyway, “We don’t even know his family name. I guess you could write yours but… don’t they need papers and stuff?”

David’s eye twitched and he avoided her gaze, looking around the room as he nibbled his lip.

“No need to rush. We only just decided tonight. I’ll… I’ll figure it out.”

“David - I kinda get why you’re not calling child services but… he’s like. Ten. He seriously needs to go to school. Trust me when I say that a good education means **everything** in life.”

“You mean a useful education.” Max seemed to snap out of his daze long enough to snark.

“Max I **swear to god** -!” she cut herself off with a surprisingly wicked grin and Max started to look unsure, “I’ll tell your **Dad** to **ground** you.”

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking-!”

“Max, language, please!”

Gwen gave him a shit-eating grin and he slouched back down.

“Just pay off some private school or whatever.” he muttered into the conversation.

“Hm,” considered David, “Even a private school would still require paperwork. Unless-?”

He looked at Max cautiously and was treated to a glare for his efforts. Calling the CPS was still clearly off the table.

“So. Ahem. Yes. Ah-” he looked up at Gwen, “I don’t suppose you have any ideas, Gwen?”

She shrugged, “Sorry, Davey. I got into school the old fashioned way.”

“Why don’t you two teach me?”

Both the ex-counsellor’s turned to face Max, hidden in his hood and slouched into the corner of the couch.

“Uh, what.” Gwen questioned.

“You. Guys.” he repeated in a slow, loud tone, “Like there’s anything a school teacher knows that you guys don’t.”

The ex-counsellor’s turned to look at each other.

“I mean,” Max continued, “Wasn’t one of Camp Campbell’s camps **Pre-Cal** Camp?”

David saw Gwen’s eyes dawn with realisation. His eyes brightened. Her’s started to widen in horror.

“Wait David-!”

“Of course! That’s a great idea, Max!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet, “It’ll be just like camp! Ooo! Maybe we can have class **outside**! This is going to be so much fun. We’ll have to look up the most recent syllabus, of course. I’m sure it won’t be too hard to figure out.”

Gwen dropped her face into her palms.

“Dear Jesus no.”

David paced in front of his recliner, making plans. Ignoring his cheer, Gwen looked up Max through her fingers, shooting him a harrassed glare.

“Max, what the hell?”

He shrugged, not even looking smug;

“What? Beats spending 9 to 3 with a bunch of losers, forced to sit at some shitty desk. At least you guys don’t just drone on and on when you teach lessons.”

She dropped her hands and her face twisted slightly, an emotion catching her off-guard. She shook it from her thoughts and looked up at David.

“David, listen. Even if this was an even remotely plausible idea. Teaching a kid takes **time**. I don’t have time. You shouldn’t have enough time either.”

Max scoffed;

“What are you so busy with? It’s not like you have a job.”

“I’m going to have a job and before I get a job I have to **look** for a job. Look, Max, that was a halfway decent idea but I have rent to pay. Groceries to buy. Lights to keep on. Teaching is a full-time job. I can’t do that for free. Sorry, Max.”

She looks genuinely sorry as she looks at him and Max looks away with a forceful shrug.

“Just make David pay you, then.”

As David suddenly drops back down into the recliner, Gwen rolls her eyes.

“Oh yeah? And where’s he gonna get a spare full-time salary from, huh? Especially if he can’t work full-time because he’s teaching you because I’m sure as fuck not teaching you on my own.”

She smugly looks over at David, ready for him to back her up. He looks nervous and… sheepish? She starts to frown.

“David-?”

“Oh!” Max starts with a false cheer that instantly sends up a well trained alarm in both adult’s minds, “Didn’t you know, Gwen? David’s fucking rich as shit. Has money coming out his ass - probably wipes with that dank green.”

Gwen stares, her expression frozen, waiting for David to deny this ludacris claim. He shifts in his seat and recrosses his legs, avoiding her eye.

Her jaw drops. David’s brow starts to sweat.

“David…” she starts slowly, “Are. You. **Fucking. Serious**!?”

He gives a distressed whine, sweating harder.

Gwen slapped her hands to her face and quietly screamed, digging her fingers into her scalp. She took in a deep breath and dropped her still-curled hands, glaring at David.

“And you never thought to mention this? Maybe say ‘ _Hey my best buddy co-counsellor Gwen! I heard you were struggling to **keep your apartment** do you maybe want some of my **pocket change**?_ ’??”

“I didn’t want you to think I was looking down on you or something! I know you’re a perfectly capable, independent woman-”

“Don’t make this a feminist thing, David! What the fucking shit! You **knew** Campbell paid us abso-fucking-lutely fuck all! Oh god fucking damnit, don’t look at me like that.”

She slid a palm down the side of her face as David looked up at her with big, wet eyes.

“Okay - _phew_ \- okay. So. There’s still a difference between having a few thousand in savings and being Bill Gates. I’m not going to drain your savings, even if it is for a good cause. Exactly how rich are you?”

David told her. Gwen grabbed the nearest cushion and buried her face into it, screaming. Max started cracking up, laughing on his end of the couch. David looked off to the side, his brow almost meeting his hairline.

“Okay, okay. I’m okay.” Gwen reassured as she dropped the pillow into her lap, very obviously doing some breathing exercises, “Okay so. **That**. We can work with. You absolutely can pay me a living wage and _could’ve been doing so for years_ ,” she shot David a pointed glare, “So… Yeah. This might actually work.”

When she looked at David this time, it was with a cautious hope. She didn’t voice it, but everyone there knew what she was silently asking. Where they actually going to do this? Could they actually pull this off? This sounded insane, crazy even. But David had the money and between the pair of them they had the knowledge and... 

Gwen looked at Max, her hopeful expression merging with a compassionate one.

And Max needed her. Needed _them_. She couldn’t let him down. She’d never been vocal in the way David was, but she’d always wanted what was best for him. She’d always known that for a kid to get as cynical as he was, something must have been fucked up in his home life. She’d stopped trying to fix every child that came through the camp a while ago - it was a lost cause. But it had always been harder to give up the cause with Max. With him…

And now that there was actually a chance of helping him. He would be with David all year; just a short drive away. And she really could cover a primary school syllabus, with David’s help.

“Okay.” Gwen agreed.

“Okay.” Max affirmed.

“Okay!” David chimed in, a large grin on his face.

\--

Later that evening Max began to doze on the couch, sitting with his knees pulled up and hands in his sweater pocket while the two adults discussed ideas about schooling Max. As his head fell forward against his knees, David smiled softly. Once Gwen was ready to leave, David walked her down to her car.

“Thanks, Gwen.”

“Don’t mention it.” She replied with a shrug. Staring off for a moment, she continued, “I’m glad the little shit has someone good taking care of him.”

She gently punched David in the shoulder, the man chuckling a little nervously and mumbling an agreement. He was probably the furthest thing from ‘good’ for this exact situation, but the sentiment of her caring about Max was appreciated all the same. 

“Honestly, he… he was really upset at the prospect of calling child services.” David admitted. “Absolutely insisted on staying with me, threatened to make their lives hell.”

“I don’t fucking doubt it.”

“He… He said I was the only person who ever really cared for him.” David felt tears well up in his eyes. Gwen gave him a half smile, slugging him in the shoulder again.

“Honestly, I can’t imagine him with anyone better.” She said. “Plus, now I’ll have a proper fucking job, and I’ll be around to help you handle tiny satan before he burns you out! Win-win.”

David laughed, feeling simultaneously tense and like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Like one worry was just exchanged for another. He’d have help, but Gwen would be closer to them. What would she do if she found out? Then again, having Gwen around may help curb him from doing anything else he’d regret.

“Keep me in the loop, let me know when we want to get this party started. And if you wanna pay upfront, I would not be against that!” Gwen stated with a shit eating grin. David hugged her.

“Thank you so much, Gwen.”

“Awe, don’t mention it, David. Camp may be done, but we’re still CBFL’s.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, folks. I don't really have a specific time of day I update and had to work in the evening for the first time in a while <3 but here you go, please b patient <3

The next few days passed with relative ease. David had started looking into homeschooling kits and spent more time on the phone with Gwen, relishing the new task to keep his mind off of… Less pleasant ideations. Max on the other hand seemed like he regretted suggesting something that made David so obnoxiously happy again. Whenever David tried to get him to be involved in his planning, the boy shrugged it off or ignored him. He seemed much more content to continue his own routine of taking over the couch and staying glued to his phone.

David wondered if Max was okay, but he still seemed to be reluctant to open up and really talk. His confession to David the night he had tried to run away were the most he got, and David was pretty sure that was the most he was going to get until Max was much more comfortable. 

They fell into an easy rhythm as the days went by. They ate at least two meals at the table together, though David noticed that Max would never eat much (usually citing that the food tasted ‘like crap’), and their evenings were spent on the couch. David would sit on one end and Max would sit at the other as the T.V. played. When David noticed Max getting tired, he’d call it a night and go to his room. A few minutes after he shut his door, he would hear Max drag a chair over and wedge it under his door knob so as to lock him in for the night. It was a comfort he didn’t dare take from Max, something to let the boy feel safer than he was in the small apartment. He tried not to feel annoyed at the action - he didn’t deserve to feel any spite about such an action. He let his guilt take over instead.

“Alright, Max, Gwen should be here soon to keep an eye on you while I head down to the post office.” David said, sitting at the table with his laptop open. The books he had ordered were dropped off at his P.O. Box, and although David was petrified to leave Max alone with anyone, he needed a break himself.

The ten year old responded with a dismissive noise from the couch. David peered over the laptop screen at the back of the couch.

“Whatcha watchin’?” David asked.

“Stuff.”

David closed the lid of the laptop and went to see what was on the T.V., tired of scrolling his admittedly sad social media pages. As he got close he saw that Max wasn’t paying any attention to the nature documentary. Max was on his phone, scrolling through inappropriate pictures, mostly of posing, topless women.

“Max!” David spat out. The boy didn’t even flinch, turning his head up to eye David out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” he said, sounding bored.

“You shouldn’t be looking at images like that! Those are absolutely inappropriate.”

“You gave me a phone with wifi connection and seriously didn’t even consider I was going to use it at some point to look at boobs?” The boy asked with a half smirk. David pursed his lips. He honestly hadn’t… As a kid he was rarely really inclined… But then again he wasn’t a prime example.

“It doesn’t matter, you ought to know better.” David stated. Max was giving him a venomous side eye. “Give me your phone so I can set up some adult controls. I didn’t think I’d need to at first but obviously I can see I was wrong.”

“How ‘bout you try and get it, Camp Man.” 

David reached over to grab it, Max quickly rolling over and pulling it away. Frowning, he reached again, leaning over the couch. Max shoved the phone underneath himself and David hesitated. Max quirked a brow in challenge, sinking lower into the futon couch.

“Max...” 

Max pulled up his shirt, exposing his stomach and some of his chest before putting his arms behind his head as a taunt. David realized now he was leaning over the couch, over Max, who was exposing himself again as a threat to him. Didn’t he realize- He was just putting himself in danger every time he pulled this. But it worked.

David pulled back from the couch, looking away as red bloomed on his cheeks. Max sat up, shirt pulled back down and peering at David silently. His eyes shone with malintent.

“Okay,” David said after a few moments. Max probably expected David to go and retreat again. Like he had done before. “Pictures only though, okay? I… I know how old you are and how young boys get…”

Max shrugged, and went back to his phone. David was forced to take that as some form of agreement. Pictures couldn’t be that bad, right? Kids learned eventually, it was kinda like… pre sex-ed. Right? Ugh, he didn’t want to think about it.

“But you can’t look at that stuff when Gwen is here, got it?” David stated, trying to set his own rules if he was going to keep wavering at Max’s game of chicken.

“...Deal.” Max agreed as he sunk back into the couch.

David sighed, shaking his head to try and banish the thoughts. It was becoming hard, especially since he was still so hesitant on masturbating. Even with the chair under his door. Even knowing Max wouldn’t intrude on his privacy again. It was becoming a battle where no one really wins…

A knock at the door snapped David back to reality and he tried to perk himself back up.

“Put it away, Max.” David warned, delightful that Gwen was coming to break up the tension that was building in his own mind. He could get out for a little bit, let the fresh air clear his mind. He trusted Gwen. He trusted Max not to tell Gwen. It was going to be okay.

Max exited out of the internet as he heard the door open, pulling up some mindless game instead. He could hear the two adults in the hallway talking.

“Oh, Gwen, are you feeling okay?”

“Fine.” she grunted, “Sleep just. Sucks. Lemme in, I gotta kick these heels off.”

As she rounded the corner, he realised she wasn’t in the casual wear he’d seen from the other night. She was in a button-up blouse and a professional skirt, her hair even done up in a bun. She must’ve come back from a job interview.

“Looks like someone got dropped hard - _oooohhhh_!”

“Max, I am about to be left alone in a small apartment with you for several hours. Do you really wanna try my patience this early.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

She kicked off her heels and flopped down on the couch next to him.

“Truce. I don’t enforce whatever bullshit rules David set for you and you don’t give me shit for the next few hours.”

“Um, I am standing right-” David timidly tried to interject.

“Eh, I’ll think about it. Depends on how bored I get.”

“Close enough, I guess.”

Gwen looked up at David, the bags under her eyes obvious. He gave her a concerned frown.

“Gwen, are you sure you’re okay to watch him?”

“It’ll be fine~! No worse than camp and this time I only have one little bastard to keep an eye on. And not acres of woods to lose him in.”

“Well, okay then. If you’re sure. Then I’ll be back before dinner. Max knows where the snacks are if he gets hungry and you feel free to take anything you need from the fridge or the cupboards. Oh! Except the fish - we’re having that tonight.”

“David I’m not going to cook fucking fish for a snack.”

“Just making sure! You two enjoy yourselves!”

The pair grunted in reply, barely waving as David headed out of the door. Gwen cast her eyes around the nearest table before snatching up the remote.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

“Oh calm down, you weren’t watching it. Besides, _Kardashians_ are on. Not missing that.”

“And what if I wanna watch something?”

Gwen turned from the screen where three women where cattily arguing about something;

“I’m not your home-teacher yet Max and I’m no longer your camp counselor so it’s my pleasure to tell you; that **shit** absolutely don’t work on me.”

She gave a shit eating grin at Max was reluctantly proud of and turned back to the television. True to her word she didn’t let him touch the remote until the show was over.

When it was over, Max didn’t seem interested in fighting her for control of the television anymore. Beeps and a techno soundtrack where coming from his phone and with a glance over his shoulder, Gwen was pretty sure she recognised the game he was massacring. A little violent, but she didn’t really expect anything less. She switched the channel to more trash TV and half paid attention, half kept up with notifications on her phone.

She turned the volume down at one point, trying to read a particularly juicy Facebook post from a friend of a friend and when she was finished she didn’t turn it back up. The television gave them an ambient sound to stop the apartment from being stiflingly silent.

Eventually she closed what she was doing on her phone and sent a side-eye glance at Max.

Gwen knew something was wrong, but she didn’t need her Psyche degree to know that. The poor kid had been abandoned. He was obviously going to develop some abandonment issues. The trouble was, she was having a hard time telling how severe it was. She’d always known he’d gone through some sort of abuse - he showed way too many signs of neglect for it not to be a regular thing at home. So it was difficult to separate the symptoms of his past abuse and this newest issue.

She couldn’t think of a better person to care for him than David but she didn’t see him a whole lot outside of camp. There was a world of difference between caring for campers and raising a child.

She pressed her lips together, thoughtful and frustrated, before deliberately relaxing.

“So… I’m assuming you’re not looking forward to when we get this school thing figured out?” she fished.

Max didn’t look up, “Whatever. Not like I wanna be illiterate and crap.”

“...You’re not illiterate, Max. We would know that by now.”

“Gwen, no one likes school. Don’t know why you think I’ll be any different.”

“Well, you **did** say we were better than going to a proper school. Is that… _exciting_?” she cringed as she said the right word. She didn’t mean to sound like David and her tone wasn’t exuberant in the slightest but she still knew that wasn’t what she’d been aiming for.

Max shrugged, “Better, sure. Good? No fucking way.”

Gwen rolled her eyes upwards for a moment before trying again.

“Why did you want us to teach you, anyway?”

She heard his game pause and Max looked over at her. He wore an unimpressed look.  
“I literally just told you. Better than some grungy public school or a prissy private school. Besides - no paperwork. Like you guys said.”

She jumped on it.

“And you’re… really okay with that? Like, I promise I won’t tell David if you admit you want him to legally be your dad.”

“Oh, what, so you can just privately laugh at me instead?”

“No, stupid. I just-. You really didn’t want to get Child Services involved, did you?”

Max was silent. His game didn’t unpause. Gwen pushed forward.

“Have you… been involved with Child Services before?”

Max moved, shifting around to glare up at her.

“You wanna know if I’ve been abused?”

“Uh-!” she backpedalled, shocked at getting caught. Max always did that - cut right through the bullcrap.

“No, Daddy never spanked me, Mommy never told me I was worthless or whatever.”

Almost automatically, Gwen started ticking of types of child abuse. If he was telling the truth - no physical abuse and no verbal or psychological abuse. Which left… two untasteful options.

She waited to see if he’d go on, but he didn’t.

“...Max?”

“Yeah, Gwen? You really ready to ask if Daddy touched me in my ‘special place’? You wanna have that conversation here, now?”

“Max.”

He looked up at her and-

And for a moment Gwen was chilled to the bone. He’d looked at her like this before. When saying that life was pointless, that his parents didn’t care, that the world was useless. Not every time he said it, just some times. They’d catch other’s eye and share this knowledge about how the world was unfair and she’d see a past ingrained in him. She’d see a snapshot reel of Max’s life where people were always too busy for him, where he was always a last priority, where he was something people forgot.

For a moment, they would share this secret, because Max knew that she knew that the world fucking sucked too.

Except this time it was a secret she didn’t know. And that chilled her.

She opened her mouth to… to ask. To entreat. To beg.

Max turned away, back to his phone.

“Pita never touched me, Gwen. Neither of them did. Shit, not everything has to be a fucking Lifetime special.”

He sounded sincere. His parents didn’t commit sexual abuse. So that meant it was like she’d thought. Her mind lingered on clearing trays of food from camp, to Nikki’s tray with twice as much food as it should’ve had and Max’s tray picked strangely clean. She knew the statistics - if it was neglect and nothing else then it was unlikely that CPS would’ve been involved.

She sighed heavily. She looked up at the television, wanting a distraction, then angrily looked away, wanting to stay on track.

“You just seem really fucking against it.”

“...So I don’t want strangers prying into my life, telling me they know what’s best for me when they don’t know a single thing about me. You really think that’s fucking weird?”

She looked over at him again. He wouldn’t meet her eyes and she could tell by his expression that this was one of those rare behind-the-scenes moments of sincerity. She wouldn’t waste it.

“I’m not saying that not wanting to be fostered is weird. But if you want to stay with David, why not make it official?”

He didn’t reply. And then he continued to not reply. Then he didn’t answer and Gwen thought that this conversation was over. She made a thoughtful sound, shifted in her seat and started to reach for the remote.

“Gwen.”

She froze at his serious tone. Carefully, she leaned back, shuffling just a bit to face Max. He’d already turned to face her. His face looked pained and clearly he was having a hard time getting the next words out.

“Since you won’t fucking shut up about it…” he muttered before speaking louder, “With my parents.. It wasn’t bad, okay? They didn’t do any of that seriously fucked up crap. But.”

He looked uncomfortable, fidgety, and Gwen kept quiet. Telling her anything about his family must be so hard for a kid like Max - this was a time to sit back and let him go at his own pace.

“But the house was- was fathers. His house, his rules. And the rule was you did your job and that’s how much you were worth. Maan worked and had a good job like he did, so she was worth lots. But I- I was just a kid. So I wasn’t worth anything. It was. It was like.”

She waited as he thought and composed his words.

“Being someone’s kid meant they **owned** you. You were like a car or a house. You were their object and they maintained you and so you did what they said and what they wanted. I just. That’s what I’d always hear from them. ‘Maximillian, you are my son, you will do what I say!’ or ‘Maximilian, I will not have my beta act in such a way!’ like I couldn’t do anything without-!”

There was a hard sniff that they both ignored and Max calmed his breathing. It only took a moment for him to resume.

“I’ve gotta live with someone. But I don’t want to be owned again. It’s really fucking uncool and if it was someone who didn’t just ignore me, someone who wanted something.”

He almost glanced at Gwen, but then looked away.

“Whatever. That’s obviously not David so. So I do want to live with him. I just don’t want him to own me.”

She sat, letting that sink in.

“Yeah. That, that makes sense. And having some piece of legal paper..-”

“Feels like a fucking contract. Like a bill of ownership or whatever.”

She flinched at the phrasing, but it accurately described how he was feeling.

“Yeah. ...Shit. Okay.”

She looked him up and down for a moment, realising that this was about the time where she should probably be comforting him. Except hugs really weren’t **her** area and this seemed like it deserved more than a gentle punch to the shoulder or an irritating ruffle of his hair. She raised her hand, trying to reach out anyway.

Max’s hand whipped out of his lap, one finger pointing straight up.

“No. Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking coddle me, Gwen. You’re fucking smarter than that.”

Okay, that she was better equipped. But…

“Should, uh, should I-?”

“I swear to fucking god if you breathe a word of this to David I will murder you myself.”

The concern dropped, piece by piece, from her face and something more amused replaced it. He jumped up from where he sat, standing on the couch.

“I’m being serious! Don’t bring this mushy bullshit up with him!”

“Fucking calm down,” she reassured, pushing him over so that he fell into the couch arm and dropped to his seat, “I’m not going to blab your secret, dumbass. We’re just making sure you’re not, like, completely screwed-up, okay? Because this is a pretty shitty situation. Also, a great case study, if I was still doing my thesis.”

Max gave her another stern look.

“Don’t write this in your diary or whatever, either. If I see one post about this on-!”

“Yeah I get it! You’ll murder me in my sleep with my own scissors, yadda-yadda.”

She gave him a wry grin and he relented into giving his version of a placated expression.

“So, David has cable, right?”

Max raised his brow at her.

“And he has his stupidly rich bank account hooked up to it?”

He broke out in a grin.

“See, when you’re not busy being some nosey stupid adult, you’re actually on my level. Here, I know how to get onto the pay-per-view stuff.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Oh, shoot.”

Max heard David mutter to himself from the kitchen before he emerged.

“Have to pop down to the store. Forgot the Parmesan.” David regarded him for a moment, then concluded, “Come on, put your shoes on! We can walk down together!”

He rolled his eyes at the familiar chipper attitude but he rolled off of the couch anyway. He knew which battles to pick and, in any case, staying inside was getting boring. He walked around to the back corner of the couch where he left his shoes and pushed his feet into them before trailing after David.

The sun was beginning to set outside, the sky a soft indigo with a ring of burning umber across the horizon. Max watched it, taking in the scenery. Trees grew from council-mandated sections, but their roots occasionally broke through the concrete sidewalk. He found it more comforting than his house- his _old_ house. It had some order to it, but it broke the rules in little ways. It let him know rules could be broken, if he needed to.

Two blocks down, they entered a corner store. The owner greeted David by name and he returned to favour so Max shuffled his way down an aisle, distracting himself with the various goods on the self. He looked over the food, considering if he wanted to make David buy him anything this time. He rounded the corner, coming to the freezer-fridges, and saw an old woman peering in one of the doors two down from him.

He tried to concentrate on the ice cream behind the glass, but his shoulders felt tense and he had to shove his hands into his front pocket, fidgeting with the stray lint inside. He glanced over, sure he was about to catch her looking at him, but the old woman had gone, down another aisle somewhere. Max scrunched his brow up, confused after being so sure she was watching him.

Unnerved, he returned to the front of the store and found David paying at the counter.

“Ah good, I’m just about ready to head back. Anything you wanted?”

He shook his head, then ducked his chin as he noticed the cashier watching them both. He wore a fond smile but…

David quickly finished paying and lead them out of the shop. A few feet away, he asked;

“Having a good day, Max?”

Max looked up at him, questioning. His shoulders dropped, though he left his hands in his sweater. The evening chill was starting to creep in. David continued;

“You looked a little.. Worried? Back there.”

He had felt tense, though it was starting to fade now. But that wasn’t anything unusual to him. Being out in public meant watching yourself - monitoring everything you did. It meant you might be in danger. Nothing happened, usually, and it wasn’t even something Max really thought about. It was just a thing.

“I’m here if you need to talk. Or you can call Gwen - that’s why you have that phone, after all.”

But Max had felt it more acutely, just then. Probably because he hadn’t felt that since… For a while. Since he walked in on David, probably.

Somehow, David’s dumb tiny apartment had started to feel… Good. Safe.

Max toed off his shoes when he got back, then looked down. They were by the back corner of the couch, where he’d kicked them off every other day if he’d worn them at all. He scowled and kicked them further behind the couch, his fists balled up tight.

He flopped down onto the couch, snatching up the remote and channel flipping. But now that the thought had started to seed, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He keyed in a channel and - seeing that it was playing ads he flicked up two channels. He already knew which handful of channels reliably had something interesting on and that they ran their ads at separate times. The remote felt comfortable in his hand, slid into place in his hand even though he hadn’t realised that the remote had a place in his hand.

He scowled again and button mashed until he landed on a channel he hadn’t come across, before.

But still the thought scratched at him. He went to his phone, annoyed with the television, and as he tried to decide between two games he belatedly noticed himself thinking;

_That one; ‘cause it’s got shorter levels and dinner will be ready in a sec._

He clicked it open, then shut it as he realised what he’d just thought. What did he care if he inconvenienced David? More importantly, since when did he know when dinner was ready? Sure, David ran like clockwork, putting dinner out at 6.30 every night practically on the dot. But was that all it was - he’d just accidentally memorised someone else’s routine.

At dinner, Max picked at his food, moving it around his plate far more than he was eating it. The fish wasn’t terrible, actually, but it still wasn’t great. He grabbed the salt and pepper shakers, trying to bring some life and flavour to the steamed vegetables on the side of the plate. With a bite of carrot he confirmed that it didn’t help much.

But that was good. He didn’t need nice food on top of all of… On top. Well. He could barely think it. Better to have this strange bland food, no matter how much he wanted some carrot kari right now. David wouldn’t even think about it, he bet. Wouldn’t think about how he wasn’t used to this sort of food.

And he didn’t want David to think about it. He was just here because all the other options were shitty. He was just here because his parents had abandoned him at Camp Campbell of all places. Because no one else wanted him and because David wouldn’t let him just leave. He could put Max out on the curb whenever he wanted but he… But he didn’t.

He let Max stay.

He pushed his plate away, his stomach turning over.

“Finished.” he sternly stated before jumping down from the chair.

He tuned David’s protests out, knowing that they would die out quickly. He never had the heart to push Max. Except, no, he did. He pushed him on things that mattered, on things David thought he should take to heart. David just knew which battles to pick - like he did.

As he huddled in the corner of the couch and listened to David clean up what was left of their dinner, he felt the anxious tension start to drain. It was comforting to hear the man shuffle about in other parts of the house. It reminded him he wasn’t alone but instead of that feeling like a threat it felt… It felt good. Nice. Safe.

Fuck. No. Fuck that.

He scrolled through the app store, downloading a slew of new games to try and lose himself in. He didn’t want to think anymore. David joined him at some point, reading a magazine (Generic Hiking Magazine, the cover read) on the recliner. As the wall clock ticked over to nine o’clock, David packed himself up.

“I think I’ll take some tea into bed. Try not to stay up too late, okay Max?”

“Yeah, whatever.” he didn’t look up, just waving his arm to fend off David ruffling his hair.

His ears were pricked as he listened to him move to the kitchen and then to the bedroom. He wouldn’t be asleep straight away so he had probably about an hour before he could get up and wedge a chair under the bedroom doorknob.

He swapped to a new game, the volume low, and by the time he looked at the clock again it was already eleven at night. He gave a yawn at the number and put his phone into sleep mode. Heading to the combined kitchen-dining area, he grabbed his usual chair and dragged it down the carpeted corridor. He peaked inside David’s room first, making sure he was asleep and not… and he wasn’t… awake. But he was asleep and so Max felt okay with using the chair to lock him inside.

He returned to the couch - his bed - and snuggled under the blanket. He guessed he wouldn’t be on the couch forever; he couldn’t imagine David not getting him a bed when they moved somewhere bigger. Clutching Mr. Honeynuts to his chest, he pressed his eyes closed and let sleep take him away.

…

Except it didn’t work.

Max’s eyes flew open and he fumbled around for his phone, turning it on to find just fifteen minutes had passed. It felt like he’d been trying to sleep for an hour. It wasn’t that he wasn’t tired. He was yawning and he could feel his eyelids begging to close. He just couldn’t get his mind to quieten down.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d discovered. About how he’d realised that living here, with David, actually felt okay. That it was nice, that he felt comfortable. He wasn’t tense or anxious all the time. He could relax and he could wander around the house without worrying about being shouted at. He could shout David’s name from one end of the dwelling and no matter what it was a guarantee that he’d hear David either calling back or the sounds of him approaching to tell him to try not to shout. And to ask what he needed, anyway.

He gritted his teeth, grinding them against each other, laying on the couch with his eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. He could find shapes in the plaster up there and he realised the shapes were familiar, too.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

He wasn’t safe, he couldn’t forget that. He couldn’t get complacent. No one really cared about anyone else. David just did this out of pity. Pity and guilt. He didn’t care about Max as a person. He would get rid of Max eventually - if not today or tomorrow then next month or half a year later. He’d be kicked out eventually.

No one was actually altruistic. No one just wanted to be friends or just cared about you for you.

_Especially not David. He just wants-_

David wasn’t safe. He wouldn’t shut up about how he’d proved that. Adults weren’t meant to want to have sex with kids. Pedophiles were horrible monsters who deserved everything they got. Max had heard all that, from parents and friends of parents and teachers and television. If he didn’t lock David in every night, he’d have been molested by night.

So that’s all it was. David didn’t care about him either - he just cared about his body. He was just keeping Max so he could have sex with him later.

_And I’ll prove it._

He couldn’t stand this. He had to make it sink in: this place wasn’t any safer than the rest of the crappy, shitty houses he’d been in. He shouldn’t relax here, he shouldn’t get comfortable, shouldn’t let it become familiar.

He threw off his blanket, hesitated, and then tucked Mr. Honeynuts back in. If he was going to go back for Round Two of childhood trauma, he didn’t want to put him through that. He walked down the corridor, staring into the dark. He could just make out the outline of the chair, wedged tight under the door. His make-shift lock.

_The **only** thing keeping me safe. **Forcing** him not to **hurt** me._

He reached the chair and yanked it away from the door.

_**Forcing** him not to come **molest** me. **Forcing** him not to **rape** me. He would, if I didn’t._

The chair wobbled before settling on its own four legs. He wrenched the door open.

_He’ll touch me, now. It’s gone and he’ll hurt me._

He had to keep thinking like that, keep reminding his mind that this place was dangerous. That he was a rat in a viper’s nest. He slipped inside the room, the door left ajar behind him. Now that he was inside he felt a shiver over his bare arms. He didn’t have his sweater on - just his jeans and camp shirt.

_Good. Good!_

He balled up his resolve. He was wearing the sort of thing he wore at camp. No way could David resist him. David who.. Who was laying on his bed, his back to the door. Max could see his torso rising and falling gently, slowly. Still deep asleep. He marched over and put a hand on the bed to climb up.

It hit him, what he was about to do. He was about to get touched, molested.

He blinked hard, gritting his teeth again.

But that was good. Because that’s all David wanted from him, anyway. He was going to prove that this so-called safe feeling was all fake and based on lies. It was going to be terrible and horrible and he’d hate it and he’d be traumatised and anytime he thought he was feeling something stupid like ‘safe’ or ‘nice’ he could remember this moment that David was a dirty pedophile and remind his stupid, dumb, retarded heart that **nothing** was ever safe and life was never **nice** and he could just stop **FEELING**!

He clambered onto the bed then, with his heart beated hard in his chest, he swung his leg over David’s sleeping form. He paused, tense, straddling him like that. He was desperately afraid of David waking up but every time he realised he was afraid he instantly dared the world to wake the man up. He dared himself to stay there, to force himself through this.

He swung his other leg over, froze again as David exhaled, then shuffled about getting under the covers. He wiggled under the blankets and then - with a gulp and a shuddery breath held in - he wiggled back into the soft curl that David’s sleeping body made. He lay there for a moment, waiting for the world to come crashing down. But nothing happened.

_He’s too deep asleep._

Max lifted his arm and wiggled back under it, dropping the arm with curled protectively over him. He curled up, lifting his knees to his chest and tucking his arms close to him with his face bent into his fists.

He lay there in the viper’s mouth, waiting to be swallowed. Waiting for the world to do what it always did to him and tear him apart. Waiting for it to justify the tears running down his face and his snuffly breaths.

It took him less than fifteen minutes to fall asleep.

\---

When David woke up the following morning, he felt warm and fuzzy. He shifted in small ways, nuzzling into his pillow and reluctant to start the day yet. Arms held onto the warm body next to him, savoring the close contact of skin on skin-

_Wait._

Eyes shot open and David sat bolt upright, pulling his arms from Max’s sleeping form. Max? Why was he in his bed?! David pulled himself away as his heart hammered against his ribs. Why would he be here, what was he **doing**? David was dangerous, a monster, not to be trusted-

And, he noticed, not aroused. Not even with an unsightly morning wood. The boy hadn’t stirred despite the sudden motions, body rising and falling with gentle breaths. David swallowed, finding his heart slowing down from the initial panic. He was okay. Max was okay. And David didn’t feel the slightest need to do anything to him. 

He took a moment to just watch Max, his mind wandering as to just why the kid had came into his room, into his bed, after… What had happened. David let himself slide closer again and rest his head on his pillow, staring at the tangles of curly black hair that faced him. He’d been acting strange the last day or two, hesitant to talk to him, more curt than normal. More defensive. So this was entirely unexpected.

David dared to run a gentle hand through Max’s hair, the boy shifting in his sleep and causing him to freeze. As he settled again, David resumed. He had to admit, it had felt… Nice waking up to someone in his arms. And Max was still asleep. Typically when David woke up, Max had been up for a while with the T.V. on waiting for him. Right now, he seemed to be in as deep a sleep as any.

A gentle smile crept on David’s face as he shuffled closer, wrapping a loose arm around Max. He supposed a bit more sleep wouldn’t hurt either of them. He could ask Max in the morning, though he already expected to get no real answer. The boy was still an enigma when it came to expressing his emotions. So quick to ask about David, so slow to show anything outside contempt and pessimism of the world around him. David closed his eyes, letting sleep take him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to announce an anxious and impromptu hiatus. Another few weeks, perhaps, but no solid set in date for when we will start up. We're coming up on the end of what we have so far written and are hoping to get more buffer chapters up before we continue uploading chapters! It will not be permanent, I promise, and hopefully it will be short!
> 
> P.S. It does not make me smile or even giggle when people on Saturday start commenting on the lack of chapters. Sometimes I forget until later in the evening, and sometimes I see these comments early and get upset and make you wait longer intentionally. You are doing no one any favors, jokingly or not, in commenting on the lack of update. Please refrain from doing so.


	9. Chapter 9

David woke up a second time with Max’s palms pressed against his cheeks. Blinking blearily, the face of Max in its perpetual slight frown came into vision, hands outstretched and pushing David’s cheeks together. His brows were characteristically narrowed, but his expression didn’t read as upset. More… Curious.

“G’morning, Max.” David said. Max’s pout increased.

“You’re not freaking out nearly as much as I thought you would.” Max stated, dropping his hands.

“I… Actually woke up earlier.” David admitted. A flash of fear crossed Max’s face. “But. I. Just went back to sleep. I promise.”

Max looked slightly doubtful, but accepted it as he pulled himself up to a seated position.

“What the fuck is **wrong** with you?” 

David blinked at the sudden question, unsure of how to answer and sitting up by Max.

“What do you-”

“I was **right** there! The **whole** night! And you didn’t do _**anything**_!?” 

Oh.

“Well… No. I didn’t, Max,” David replied, looking away from the confused and accusatory glare of the boy. “I don’t want to hurt you. More than I already have. And… I didn’t…” He trailed off. What, was he supposed to be ashamed for not being rock hard at the prospect of a kid sleeping with him? “I just didn’t feel the need to. It was nice to wake up with you, though. N-not in a weird or-or sexual way, I just-”

“Nope. Stop. I believe you. Kind of.” Max cut off, showing once again he wanted answers without digging too deep. “But I want breakfast.”

David watched as he slid off the mattress, his face giving away just how confused he still was at all of it. He didn’t want to keep asking, but Max seemed to genuinely not understand why David hadn’t done anything to him. Almost like he expected him to. Like he came in here with the sole purpose of proving it.

Was Max testing him? More importantly, had he _passed_? He doubted Max was going to let him ask more questions on it right now. Maybe he could try later, once Max had time to think about… About whatever this had been.

All he could do now is do as Max said and get him breakfast. And to hope that whatever this had been wasn’t some sign that he’d already irrevocably wrecked the poor boy.  
\---

The next few days had David on edge but Max, by contrast, was more vocal than before. Almost like when he was at Camp Campbell. Even if David didn’t respond, he was throwing comments at the T.V. and seemed comfortable. And, David couldn’t help but notice that Max had stopped shoving the chair under his door knob at night. David made no comments on it, but he was happy that Max seemed to trust him again. 

“Okay, Max, enough T.V., you have to work more on your math.” David called a little after noon. The boy responded with an overwhelming, whole body groan in protest. 

He was never keen to bother with the school work, and they had only just started the curriculum. Gwen would be by tomorrow to help with geography and history work, but she made sure to leave David all the math and science work. 

“C’mon, Max.”

“...Fine.” 

Max joined David at the table, grabbing the bright blue booklet that was littered with cartoony artwork of numbers. David scrolled on his laptop, pages pulled up about fractions and decimals. It had been way too long since he dealt with arithmetic, didn’t hurt to have some help at his fingertips. Max flipped open to the last page he left off, reading the information page.

A lot of what David had bought used a self taught approach, with the assumption of an assisting adult nearby in case questions were had. He wasn’t sure if Max would adapt to them, but Max was a rather independant kid. David didn’t ask about his prior schooling but if Max was like he was at Camp Campbell in school, he probably didn’t get along well with teachers…

Max worked quietly with furrowed brows and eyes bright. Despite his complaints about the work, Max was a diligent and focused student. David found it admirable, but knew that his strength in working independently was a result of the underlying issues. It wasn’t a skill Max picked up by choice.

David didn’t notice he’d been staring at Max until he looked up at the older man, locking eyes silently. He froze for a moment, but held Max’s gaze.

“What?”

“Just waiting for you to need help.” David replied with a small smile.

“I don’t need your help.” Max scoffed, as if he was offended. “Go cook lunch or something.”

“Alright, alright.”

David closed the laptop and went into the kitchen, looking back over his shoulder to find Max scrawling against the workbook once more. He smiled to himself as he began to poke around the fridge for lunch food. Maybe sandwiches and chips… Light and quick, enough to hold them over until David started cooking spaghetti for supper. Yeah, that’d work.

As he made his own sandwich, David looked over at Max, pleased to find him still working.

“What do you want on your sandwich, Max?”

“Turkey and cheese. And I want some of those barbecue chips!”

“No lettuce…?” David tried.

“Nope.”

Oh well, it was worth a try.

David put together Max’s plate and set it aside, beginning to construct his own sandwich.

“Hey, David?”

“Yes, Max?” David perked up, spinning heel away from his sandwich building to look over at the other. Max wasn’t looking Davids way and seeming to be searching for words. Concerned, David left the kitchen and pulled a chair up to Max. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” He trailed of and mumbled something David didn’t catch.

“What?”

“I said…. Thank you…. For. Putting up with me. And shit.” Max repeated a little louder, doing his very best to keep his eyes as far away from David as he could. A blush of embarrassment was on his cheeks and pout on his lips as David repeated the words in his mind. He felt a swelling in his chest and tears threaten the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, Max-”

“I’m not **done**!” Max interrupted, whipping his head around to look at David, eyes shining with tears. David waited. “You didn’t **have** to take me in. I know you didn’t even want to at first… But I’m… Glad you did, okay? I’m fucking _happy_ here.”

At this point, David’s lip was trembling as he tried to hold back full on sobs, and Max had tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Ok, I’m done, you can go back to cooking now-- AGH-- David, get **off** me--”

David grabbed Max and pulled him into a tight hug, crying into the boy’s shoulder. He was _happy_ here. He _thanked_ David! Was this even the same Max?!

“I swear to God, David, I take it all back, right now. Let me go, fuck!” 

David apologetically loosened his grip and gave a small smile, Max’s face fully red now from embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, Max, it just. It means a lot for me to hear you say that.”

“If I knew I was going to get strangled, I woulda kept it to myself.” Max huffed, but he hadn’t pushed David completely away, letting the man embrace him in a small way. David found the silent sentiment endearing.

“Besides, you should probably warn me if you’re gonna grab me like that.” Max added. David let him go and backed off a little bit.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, Max. I was just. Excited. And happy.” David tried to explain, hoping his hug hadn’t tarnished anything.

“I know. I was mostly just kidding anyway.” 

The two wiped off their tears, Max going back to a resolute expression as he faced the packet of work. As if nothing had happened. David smiled to himself before going back to the kitchen for the sandwiches.

\---

After another bland dinner Max sat in his usual spot on the couch. The cushion was developing a slight dip and in the safety of his own mind he was prepared to admit that it was kind of nice to have a spot of his own. He wouldn't be admitting this aloud, though, as apparently the slightest hint of affection just got him a strangling hug from David.

He looked up from his phone, spying the man as he watched some nature program on television. It wasn't even the cool kind with animals fighting or fucking each other. In fact the old man on the screen seemed to be talking about a flower. But David seemed to be enjoying it.

Which meant that Max could enjoy something much more interesting without being disturbed by inane small talk. He opened up the internet on his phone, folding his legs up in front of him on the couch. Remembering what he’d searched before, he tried to pick up where he’d left off.

'sexy boobs'

He slowly scrolled down, watching the pictures intently. Where all girls this big? He didn’t think Gwen was this big - but then against Candy totally had been. Half of the pictures just had girls with their tits completely out, but then some coyly hid them behind open shirts or towels or bikini tops. It was all good, in Max’s pre-pubescent opinion. As he scrolled, more pictures came up, some even of women taking off their underwear. Their underpants. Max tilted his head and swiped the screen to try zoom in. It looked weird - like she was just missing her penis or something. All smooth with a slit that was just partially open.

He needed a better look at this. Except… he didn’t really know what to search.

whats girls private parts called

The first link looked confusing, so he opened the second and read through the answers. Thus prepared, he returned to image search.

'sexy vagina'

Did not bring up what he was hoping for. Nothing looked like the vaginas he’d seen while looking at pictures of boobs or some were just of women wearing underwear when he was looking for the opposite. Rolling his eyes at the screen, Max tried again.

'naked vagina'

Now that was more like it. He scrolled through, picking out just a few pictures to get a better look at. He was starting to get the appeal of this. It felt weird to look at things like this - something about knowing that it was wrong for him to be seeing pictures like this when he was just ten. But it was nice to look at and he was pretty sure the fluttery feeling he was getting in his stomach was the feeling of getting turned on.

But there was still only so much he could take. It made him feel fluttery to look at these pictures but the weird feeling - eventually - always won out. When he looked back up from his phone, the documentary on television had finished and David was flicking channels to something else. Max considered his phone, then decided taking the remote was a better idea.

“Hey David.” 

He held out his hand and David relinquished the remote control to him for the night.

\---

Later that night, Max woke from tossing and turning. He was having a hard time getting to sleep - emphasis on ‘hard’. He looked down under the covers again. Yep, his dick was still up. He’d already taken his jeans off though he usually slept in them. The denim was just chafing way too much tonight. With an annoyed groan, he rolled over onto his stomach and then very quickly rolled onto his back. Even just **laying** down on it made him throb. If all erections were like this he was less interested in becoming a teenager.

He couldn’t stay asleep. Every time he closed his eyes he thought of the pictures he’d been looking up recently. Different boobs or vaginas he’d seen. That one picture where a woman had had a dick in her mouth. He’d just been curious; he’d wanted to know what all the fuss was about. He hadn’t necessarily wanted to actually do anything.

But he was going to have to, now. He could stand pulling an all-nighter; it would hardly be the first time he’d stayed up all night. But it was annoying and it was distracting and it was frustrating.

“I guess I’m… going to jerk off, then. Okay.” Max quietly reassured himself.

He pushed his blanket down to his hips and considered the waistband of his underwear. He looked over at where he’d wedged Mr. Honeynuts in between him and the couch back and turned him around so that the bear’s back was facing him. Mr. Honeynuts didn’t need to be traumatised by this. He pulled up his underwear and slipped it down to his knees. He didn’t actually have much of an idea of how to do this, aside from crude insults and his first night here.

He supposed touching it would be a good start. He brought his hand to his dick and just rested his palm on top. That felt… good. It was a good start. He wrapped his hand around it properly. The heat from his palm felt good, was making him feel warm and flushed. The pressure was nice, too. He lay there and rhythmically squeezed himself. The warmth in his groin increased, going from a mild and vague warmth to something far more heated, almost feeling like he should be sweating. He could feel the difference in temperature with his thighs being mostly cool but his hand and groin getting overheated. He could feel the warm flush blooming from his collarbones, too.

It took Max a moment to realise he was panting, his humid breaths puffing out into the cool night air of the lounge room. His forehead wasn’t actually damp but it had that peculiar sensation he associated with pre-sweat. His eyes had slid shut and he could feel his face twitching as it spasmed awkwardly, his eyes clenching and then relaxing, his mouth relaxing and then tightening into a moan. His skin felt like it was buzzing, like that one time he’d eaten strawberries and discovered he was allergic to them except this time it was an undeniably good feeling. A feeling he wanted, one that he wanted to chase.

He kept squeezing at himself, the method seeming to work well enough. There was a tingling sensation in his crotch and he could feel the sensation crawling down the insides of his thighs and up his tummy. Damn, no wonder teenagers did this all the time. And just as he felt like he was getting somewhere-

The pleasure plateaued and then started to drop. With a frustrated groan, Max squeezed faster and then harder, until he flinched at the pain and took his hand away to glare down at his stubbornly hard dick.

“What the fuck?!” he passionately whispered to himself.

It had been feeling so good and then suddenly… It just wasn’t enough. He was still completely frustratingly aroused but the squeezing this just stopped working all of a sudden. He had to try something else but he really didn’t know what other things he was meant to do. The fact was that kids his age didn’t really talk about this, yet. He had a vague idea about it but adults sure as hell didn’t talk about it around them so they didn’t have any real, proper source of information. So even though he knew stuff like how the Christian Camp across Lilac Lake masturbated their repressed sexuality away, he didn’t really know what that consisted of.

But there **was** someone here who did know. Someone how might even know how to make it feel good for someone **his** age.

Head full of fuzzy arousal and legs trembling just slightly, Max hastily pulled his underwear back up and walked out of the lounge room, down the corridor and opened David’s bedroom door.

\---

“-vid. David…”

The room was dark as his eyes lethargically tried to open. Someone was saying his name, trying to wake him.

“Da-avid..”

He rolled over, squinting in the dark. Max was in his room? What did he want?

“Max? What- what do you need? Is eve-” a yawn interrupted his mumbled questions, “-verything alright?”

“I need. I need your help.”

What was wrong with his voice? Was he just sleepy? No it sounded different from that. David tried to will himself into a more alert state since it seemed he’d need to be awake for whatever this was.

“Mm. Can it wait ‘til morning, Max?”

“No. It hurts. I can’t get to sleep like this.”

“Hm. Like what?”

“With a hard on.”

David woke up with a snap. His face still half buried in his pillow, his eyes shot open and landed on Max’s face. His strange tone made sense, now, especially paired with his lidded gaze and his parted lips. With his arms pointing down towards-

David rolled his face into his pillow, hiding his face. He turned just a little to catch a glimpse of Max’s face and confirm that hadn’t been some waking dream. Max’s piercing green eyes stared back.

“Are you going to help or are you just going to be useless and lay there?”  
His words mostly muffled by his pillow, David replied;

“No. Go back to bed. Please.”

“What, no, this fucking hurts.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I **tried** to do it on my own-”

David groaned, the sound too muffled to be distinguished as delight or distress.

“-But it stopped working. Don’t touch me or anything-”

He couldn’t catch his thoughts fast enough to decide if Max’s repulsed tone was a good or bad thing in this horrible, terrible context.

“Just. Tell me what to do. You know how to masturbate, right?”

David couldn’t answer for a long moment. He really didn’t want to keep having this conversation. But Max wasn’t leaving him alone. Max knew - he knew far too well but he still wasn’t leaving him alone. Hesitantly he replied;

“Yes.”

“So tell me.”

He couldn’t do anything but stare into his pillow, waiting for the world to swallow him up. This wasn’t appropriate. Worse than that, he could feel something familiar under his gut stirring. It wasn’t enough to get him hard or anything but. It was a start. He didn’t have the best basis - didn’t have the most impartial view - but he was pretty sure that jerk-off instructions was pretty inappropriate.

_But isn’t it just sex ed?_

He shook his head. No, he couldn’t start thinking like that. Whether it was or not, ten years old was too young for that sort of sex education. He couldn’t give himself leeway. Too many things could be justified with ‘sex ed’. He should know - he’d mentally justified a lot of things to himself before.

“David~” Max’s voice moaned out.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the moan. He could hear that Max had moved, leaning his back up against David’s bed and- And his hand must be down his pants, from the sounds he was emitting.

“What have you already tried?” David croaked out.

“Kind of, squeezing it?”

He tried not to think about what that would look like on Max while also thinking about what that would look like in general. He could do this. Should he do this? He was going to do this.

“In your fist?”

“Mm- yeah.”

Max was panting and the hot sound had David shivering in his sleep shirt.

“Okay, try moving your hand up and down your-” he choked on the word, “You.”

The choke barely mattered, though, as the last part of his sentence was practically drowned out by Max’s wanton moan. David buried his face further into his pillow as he heard Max stutter out;

“Oh **fuck**! That feels so, so good. Damnit!”

He was getting hard now, listening to the boy of his dreams moaning next to his ear. Knowing that Max had his hand shoved into his pants, his tiny hand wrapped around his little prick. Fuck, he was thinking about it now.

“Wh-what else?” Max panted at him.

Had to stop this. This was- he couldn’t have good things. Not good things like this.

“That’s the basics. You, uh, you ca-”

“There’s gotta be more. Tell me what else feels- mm! -eels good.”

God, Max begging to be told what to do. Wanting David to tell him how to do it, how to touch and stroke and- He had to stop himself from grinding into the mattress. Fine. Just telling him should be fine, right? He’s going to learn eventually and… it’s not like David’s touching him or anything. It was fine.

“Try rubbing your thumb over the head - the round part at the top.”

There was a new moan, with a strained twist in it’s tone.

“O-oh god, damnit.”

“Keep stroking - try to press or rub the head at the same time.”

He didn’t dare look up, but heard Max moving his hands, the flesh-on-flesh sound changing minutely. The boy’s pants filled the air, filled the room. Filled the grey mush between David’s ears.

“On the underside, just under the head, try rubbing there a bit. Just a finger or two.”

He could see Max doing it in his mind’s eye. The soft hand wrapped around his cock, frantically stroking it up and down, pushing it into the palm of his other hand as his fore-fingers awkwardly groped at that sweet spot just under the glans.

“Ah-!”

Max let out a cry of pain and David belatedly remembered lubricant.

“Friction burn. Lick your hand or spit in your palm. Spit can help.”

The wet sounds where like music to his ears and he found himself grinding into his mattress. He couldn’t stop hearing what Max was doing. He didn’t want to stop hearing it as much as the other part of his mind bellowed at him for being a horrible person. The more Max moaned next to him the more he could smother that inner voice.

 _I’m killing my Jiminy Cricket._ He hysterically, hazily thought to himself.

“Wh-wha- _oh shitting fuck_ -what next?” Max breathlessly asked him.

David groaned - or was it a moan? - into his pillow. His pajama pants felt like torture against his hard cock and he could already tell that even if he managed to drag himself to an ice shower after this there’d **still** be a stain to launder out of his pants in the morning. He could hear the arousal saturating Max’s tone and yet he still asked for more?

“Damnit, Max, what do you want from me?!”

“He-hey!”

David could still hear him fucking masturbating, even while addressing him. He’d never found Max’s annoyance particularly off-putting anyway.

“Don’t get- _ah_! - mad at me. I’m a kid, I don’t kn-know about this shit.”

“And I’m a pedophile, I think I’m allowed to get mad at you for asking me this.”

Even through his haze of gut-churning arousal, David still recognised the sudden sound that squeaked out of Max.

“Max? Are- are you-?”

Before he could finish asking if Max was okay, he saw Max’s head loll to the side and his body lean onto the edge of his bed. A long moan drew out from between his pursed lips.

So Max was okay. He was **really** okay. What on Earth had triggered **that** reaction?

_No. Nope. Don’t think about that. Better you don’t know, David._

With Max’s dusky skin and the dark of the bedroom it was hard to make out his expression, but David could at least see his heavy-lidded eyes and his open, panting mouth. The tip of the small boy’s tongue just behind his lip. He looked intoxicating on top of being his usual gorgeous self.

David was sure he must look in a right state himself. He could feel his pale face blushing hard, spreading red right up to the tips of his ears. As much as he tried to hide his face, he could still feel his bottom lips tugged down and a wet spot under his jaw where he was drooling liberally. His sight was blurred not just from his sleep-hazed state but from his eyelids refusing to open properly. The only thing that stopped them pressing closed was the twist in his gut demanding that he savour this rare, forbidden moment.

He saw Max’s face twitch, saw his arms stutter it’s movement. His breath caught in his throat as he realised what was happening. He wasn’t thinking anymore, really, the haze of lust and sleep turning this whole experience into a dream.

“You have to keep up the rhythm.”

Max could barely breathe out his reply but David thought he heard a questioning word between the profanity. He didn’t stop himself from shuddering at the volatile words.

“If you lose the rhythm you’ll just feel frustrated again.”

That seemed to get through and he saw Max’s eyes shut, his brow scrunching adorably with intent concentration. The boy’s shoulders shook and his arm wavered but then his mouth fell open in a wanton moan. Max half fell, half pushed forward into the side of David’s bed and he was treated to the image of Max’s eyes fluttering open with his eyes rolling back in ecstasy just inches from his face. His arm stopped moving and David could see his small body roll with unstoppable convulsions.

For a minute or so, Max stand beside him there, catching his breath with his head dropped onto his matress. David was shaking with the need to reach out and hold him, touch him, just bury a hand in his hair while he dealt with his own boner.

He tensed up all over. The fear wasn’t enough to turn him off, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to let himself move right now. His hips ignored this order and rubbed his dick absently into the sheets. He had no idea why Max thought this was good or acceptable or safe and he desperately hoped that his slight shifting wasn’t going to betray whatever trust he’d been extended.

After a minute or two, Max lifted his face out of the mattress and brought a hand up to his chin height, peering at it. David couldn’t figure out what he was doing until he spoke.

“Isn’t something meant to come out?”

Right. He’d just-

 _Cum. Max just came while fucking his fist at your bedside._ His mind too-readily supplied for him.

He couldn’t push that thought aside just at the moment, but he used the thought to figure out how to answer Max.

“You’re too young.” David’s reply was a mix of a breath and a whisper; laced with idolation.

Max made a quizzical sound.

“You can’t actually…” he had to pause for far too many seconds to think of a version of the word he needed that wasn’t completely lewd, “..actually make ejaculate until you go through puberty. But at your age you’re too young to even make.. even make ejaculatory fluid.”

He was going to explain more, do a better job at explaining and teaching but the mere thought of how young Max was and what he’d just done was enough to have David breathing hard and embarrassingly pressing his face back into his pillow.

“Oh.” was Max’s simple reply, the inflection inscrutable as ever.

“So, uh,” he continued while David tried to not move too much and forcibly hold himself under control, “Thanks? I guess. I’m gonna… Gonna go sleep now. Yeah.”

David didn’t watch as Max left his room, only looking up after he heard his door shut. He lay there for a moment, staring at the closed door in the dark.

“Fuck.” he whispered with a great passion.

David got out of bed and hurried to the door and locked it before his hands could betray him and open it up. He dropped his head against the wood with a heavy thump, looking down at where the reddened head of his cock pushed out of the fly of his pajama pants. He was going to need to get better pajama pants if Max was going to stay with him on such a permanent basis.

He got halfway back to his bed before looking over at his desk. He grabbed his desk chair and wedged it under his door. He’d done a very good job tonight. Not perfect, but a good job anyway. If he thought about it too hard, he felt like crap for giving himself credit for not raping or molesting a little boy but the fact was that it had been a major struggle that he had - for most intents and purposes - succeeded with. He didn’t want Max barging in again and breaking all that hard work he’d put in.

Thus securely locked inside, David flopped back down on his bed. He looked down at his dick - stubborning remaining hard - and scowled. Swallowing down the nauseous feeling of guilt, he let his thoughts and imagination wash over him. He slid his eyes shut, slid his hand into his pants and re-lived Max voluntarily coming into his room at night so as to masturbate just for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holiidays everyone! Living with Max is tentatively back up, though will be updating every two weeks instead of every week until we have a more solid build up of chapters to post <3 Thank you all so much for being patient with us ^u^


	10. Merry Christmas!

Just wanted to extend a very happy holidays from myself (Kialish) and Jaye! We got our very good friend Yotnii to do a piece for all of our lovely fans for the holidays <3 be sure to check out their [TUMBLR ](https://ambotsaimoyon.tumblr.com/)


	11. Chapter 10

David felt like he was walking on eggshells the next morning. He jumped at every sound, spun at every creak of the apartment building. He didn’t see Max until lunch despite the small size of his living space. The boy must’ve have been sticking to the lounge room which was the one room David had been avoiding.

He could feel Max’s eyes boring into the back of his head, now, while he fixed sandwiches for them. Chicken loaf, tomato, lettuce and cheese; though he fully expected Max to pick the salad off of his. He concentrated on the task, trying not to get caught up in his own thoughts.

He’d slept strangely the night before: dead asleep after Max’s ‘visit’ until about 4am at which point his bladder had woken him. Dislodging the chair from his door so as to visit the bathroom had reminded him of what had happened enough for it to shake up his dreams when he tried to get back to sleep. He’d decided after an hour of some of the worst sleep in his life that it was better to start his day rather than try wrestle with sleep again.

But the broken sleep had left him tired and shaky. Last night had shaken David up really bad; he was disturbed that Max had thought it was okay and he hated how much he’d loved it. More than any of that, though, he was dreading what Max might say about it now. Now that he was awake and clear-headed.

He jumped again, neatly missing slicing into his own finger as he cut their sandwiches into halves, as he saw Max appear in his peripheral vision. He was reaching up onto the counter, fishing something over to him. David turned away from him, going to get a set of plates instead.

“No wonder.” Max’s voice seemed to echo around the small kitchen.

“Hm?” David made a strangled sound, trying to sound nonchalant.

He heard the skitter of a foil packet skidding across the counter top.

“You didn’t take your meds this morning. No wonder you’re being all weird.”

David turned to see that Max had in fact just tossed his medication towards him. Somewhat dazed, he walked over and picked up the packet. Sure enough, there was one too many in the packet. But how did Max know how many to keep count of? He popped his missed pill out and took it to the sink to wash it down with water. When he turned back around, Max was on his tip-toes and inspecting the sandwiches.

“Bleh.” he made a face as he pulled the lettuce and tomatoes off of one of the sandwiches.

“You should try to have some vegetables, Max.” David admonished automatically.

Max looked up at him and purposefully pulled the rest of the tomato off. He looked like a cat knocking knick-knack’s off of shelves. David frowned at the poor attitude then his mind caught up with him and his frown softened into something more nervous.

“Max. We should. Talk.”

“About what?” Max asked as he took a bite of his sandwich, “Last night?”

David balked, leaning against the sink for support. So he did remember last night. His eyes jolted about the room, trying to look for an escape that he wouldn’t let himself take.

“Y-yes.”

He couldn’t really think of anything good to say after that. Max looked at him, expectantly. After a long minute, Max took a languid bite and said;

“Wow! Great talk, David. Anyway-” and turned on his heel.

“Wait!” David put his hands out, as if he was going to physically pull the boy back.

“What, David?” Max demanded as he turned around, “You helped me out. I went back to bed. It’s not a big deal.”

“Max, that was inappropriate. I- I shouldn’t have pushed-”

“David, you said **no**. If anyone pushed it was me.”

“Yes, but, I shouldn’t have invited-”

“I went into **your** room.”

“But I shouldn’t have.. Shouldn’t have said those things. It was far too sexual-”

“Uh, yeah, it’s masturbation.”

“I mean it was a sexual thing for me to do to you.”

“You didn’t molest me. You didn’t even touch me.”

“But- It- I. I shouldn’t have gotten off on it.”

David braced himself for Max’s reaction - a disgusted shiver from the boy like usual. He had to blink a few times when he realised no such reaction was forthcoming. Instead Max looked away for a moment before replying;

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame you. That. Mm.” it looked like Max was fighting himself to get the next few words out, “That maybe wasn’t exactly fair of me.”

The kitchen was quiet as his meaning sunk in.

David’s eyes widened with realisation.

“It’s not your fault, Max-!”

“Of course it’s not my fucking fault!” Max scowled up at him, gesturing wildly with his sandwich. He calmed and finished another small bite before continuing;

“It’s not my fault that you.. Did whatever. But. I get that I played a part. Still not my fault!” he cut David off, “But. Yeah.”

He put the other half of his sandwich back up on the kitchen bench and walked back to the lounge room.

“We’re okay, David. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for lunch.”

\---

Despite David’s worries that what had conspired between them would lead to more uneasy feelings, they fell back into their rhythm easily. It didn’t mean David was any less nervous. His leg would bounce while Max worked, wrangling in anxious thoughts that often spun unsightly tales in the back of his mind. If Max noticed, he didn’t say anything. The day he had gotten the worst of it under control, Gwen had stopped by for her first day of teaching Max.

David worked around them, doing house chores while he knew Max would be reliably watched but feeling the dread hike up enough that it sat in the back of his throat. 

_What if Max told her? What if despite all of the strangely positive progress at taking care of Max, of making sure Max felt safe, Max changed his mind and realized just how bad this all was? What if-_  
  
No, stop.

He reigned in the irrational fears the best he could, though when Gwen pulled him aside later that day he still jumped. She had noticed, and she had acted on it.

“David, you okay?”

He flinched at her voice from his task of scrubbing the bathroom sink with a rough sponge, the small room heavy with the lemon scented cleaner. He almost lost his grip on the porcelain rim, which would have resulted in him slamming his face against the faucet, but steadied himself with a terrible attempt at composure.

“Hmm? Oh. Y-yeah! I’m fine! What’s up?” The words stumbled out too fast. He wasn’t really the best liar, and Gwen's pursed lips told him she knew.

“Spill it. What’s wrong?” She asked, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over the graphic tee she was wearing. He opened his mouth, then closed it. 

_Shoot, think of a convincing lie, dammit._

“I just.” He stopped, then caught the tail end of a thought. Yes, that’d do. “I’ve been trying to think about moving. Well, you know, where we’d move to.”

Understanding replaced concern on Gwen's face and her stance softened slightly. He swore for a moment he could still see a shadow of doubt cross her face, but it was gone the next instant. Running the hot water, David kept scrubbing at the sink.

“That makes sense. You were being kind of jumpy.” She explained with a shrug. “You look online? I think I saw some houses for sale not far from my parents’ place. Kinda big though, if it’s just you and Max…”

“Y-yeah. I’ve looked at a few.” A lie. He hadn’t thought about it until now. “It won’t be too hard to move all my stuff, and Max doesn’t have much. Might have to take him shopping, too…”

The anxiety in his mind was quieting, between cleaning the bathroom and making plans. Sorting things out. Gwen was still leaning against the doorframe, leaning out to look towards where Max was before turning her attention back to David.

“David?”

“Mhmm?”

“Don’t get too worked up, okay? You’re doing good. For Max, I mean.” She gave him a small smile, like she knew something he didn’t. “If the little shit hasn’t broken you yet, I think we might just be set.”

“We?” He asked, silencing the dry laughter in the back of his mind at her sentiments.

“Yes, David, we. As my now employer and CBFL, I’m roped into this, too. Can’t complain too much, though.”

“It’s only your first day on the job, Miss Gwen.” David teased, a smile creeping on his face. She frowned at the name.

“Christ, don’t ever call me ‘miss’ anything. And honestly, he’s fucking quiet. Just chugging along on those work books.”

“He’s pretty self sufficient.” David agreed.

“ **Gwen**. I need a fucking teacher and you ditched me.” As if on cue, Max’s voice shouted over to them.

David gave an apologetic half smile as Gwen pulled herself off the doorframe and turned towards the dining room.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, satan.”

\---

Max jabbed at the salad on his plate, cheek resting against the palm of his other hand. He looked entirely disinterested in the concoction of lettuce, spinach, and other shaved vegetables ever since he had very carefully eaten the strips of seasoned chicken breast that were on top of it. At least he had eaten the chicken, though he was starting to worry about just how few vegetables Max bothered with eating.

"So, like, sometimes people have other people use their mouths, right?" 

David stopped mid chew, the question emerging from left field and sailing well and over his head.

"What?"

"Like. It’s not always just using your hands, some guys have people who suck them off. Does it feel better?" Max continued, gaining a creeping blush across his cheeks. David suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore.

"Wha- Where is this coming from?!" He sputtered, his own face heating up. This kid was going to be the death of him. First asking how to touch himself several nights ago, and now this. _At_ dinner. 

"Saw some videos..." He mumbled.

"I thought I said pictures only!" God, as if that were any better. But he didn't really know where to draw the line and Max played him like a damn fiddle when he wanted something. 

"And you actually believed I was going to listen?" Max replied with a derisive snort.

"Yes." David replied coolly. Max seemed surprised at his admission at first, but went back to stabbing his food slowly.

"So is it better?" He asked again.

David poked at his dinner, studiously looking into the salad. He wanted to help teach Max, wanted to impart knowledge like a good parental figure. But this sort of knowledge? He had no way of gauging whether it was okay. He’d try to tell Max that he was too young to know that sort of thing, but he could already guess where a comment like that would get him.  
Best to just get it over with.

“It’s different, mostly. Most people say it’s better.”

Silence as neither of them ate their dinner. David tried a mouthful of greens but chewing felt difficult - his teeth too heavy for his mouth.

“Different how?” Max asked.

David was struck with the immediate thought of offering to show him. Almost as quickly he felt sick, nausea clawing at the back of his throat. He forced himself to swallow his mouthful, choking a cough around the half-chewed leaves. After a gulp of water, he tried to answer;

“It’s, um. It’s more intense. The suction is more intense than just your fist and-”

“Suction? Wait like- You’re actually meant to suck on it?”

David looked up before he could stop himself and caught Max quickly looking down into his salad. His cheekbones were ruddy with a blush. He mustn’t look much more composed - hearing Max say ‘suck it’ in this context was… hard to think about.

“Yes.” he gulped and then tried to shove as much lettuce in his mouth as he could.

He’d almost finished his mouthful by the time Max opened his mouth again;

“So-”

“Max.” David cut him off curtly, feeling tense at this line of questioning, “This isn’t appropriate dinner table conversation.”

Dinner was a write-off, now, and David pushed his plate away a bit. He hadn’t eaten much more than Max, tonight.

“Then when can I-?”

“Have you finished?”

Max looked at him, caught off-guard; “What?”

“Have you finished your dinner? I’ll clear the table.”

The boy narrowed his eyes.

“I **said** : _When **can** I as_ -?”

“I’ll take it that you’re finished, then.” David cut in, taking Max’s plate and his own to the kitchen.

Max glared at him the whole way out of the room.

\----

Gwen was able to pick up on the light tension the next time she visited. It was different from the times she was normally there, less of Davids inherent anxiety and more of Max being outwardly upset at David. When she asked about it, Max had cut off Davids attempt at explaining - something about T.V. privileges - with a snarky “none of your fucking business”. Her response was a customary shrug before asking Max where they had left off on their last sit down.

After a few hours of watching Max do his work, she traded off with David and noticed the piling up of his laundry. He wasn’t normally this negligent with his cleaning…

“Hey, David, were you ever gonna, like, do your laundry?” She asked as she returned from the bathroom.

David looked at her almost sheepishly, cheeks tinged pink from something she assumed Max had said in her absence. Shooting a suspicious glare to Max, who suddenly had his nose buried into his work book in an angry kind of focus, she waited on a reply from David.

“Well- y-yes. I just. I guess I forgot…” He replied meekly. She rolled her eyes.

“You’d be helpless if I wasn’t here to help with Max, wouldn’t you?” She teased, corer of her lips tugging into a smirk. “Also, Max, how much clothes do you even have left?”

David blinked in thought as Max shrugged, not wanting to look up from his workbook.

“I dunno, what I’m wearing, I guess?”

“Wait- David did you ever bother getting him more clothes than what he wore at Camp Campbell? He wore the same stuff almost daily.” 

David was looking even more like a confused kicked dog, Gwen, feeling some sympathy and sighing. What had him so off his focus? He was normally pretty good with things like this. Taking care of the campers was practically his prime directive, followed by himself and second only to impressing their douchebag of a boss.

“Look- don’t worry about it,” Gwen said in a softer voice, holding her hands up in a non-threatening gesture. “I’ll help with the laundry while you help Max, okay? Then later this week, if you need me to I can take Max clothes shopping. With your credit card, of course.”

“No, you don’t-” He caught himself, glancing at Max who was still determined at keeping his eyes glued to the papers. Then David thought about it, and nodded. “Yes. I would like that, Gwen. Thank you.”

“No problem. You still seem a little out of focus. Is it the moving thing?”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Max’s face twitch into a smirk.

“Or is it king shithead over here.”

“Y’know, any other teacher would get fired for calling a student names, _Gwen_.” Max retorted, looking up from his paper to glare at her. “I hear that kind of emotional abuse can really fuck up kids.”

“I guess it’s a bit of both.” David said, cutting off Gwen from making a comeback. “I didn’t think house hunting would be so stressful.”

“Alright well. Let me go put a load of laundry in and I’ll help you look. Pull up some places you were looking at.”

After she had thrown a load of laundry into the wash, she pulled up a chair next to David and watched him scroll through houses and neighborhoods he was looking into. Max was quiet doing his work, though she could see him look up from time to time while they talked about what neighborhoods were good or how many square footage a certain house had. Of course he’d be interested, it would be his new house too.

She knew this situation was strange. Not exactly the idea happy home type of family kid really deserved. However from what she did know about his initial family, this would be better. Part of her even felt a little - ugh - maternal for him. She’d cared about the campers at Camp Campbell before, but it was more of a ‘keep these stupid shits safe or lose your paycheck’ kind of care. This… Was pretty different. Max, in general, was pretty different.

As David prattled excitedly about a few places she had pointed out to Max, she thought about Parent’s Day. The first time she’d really seen Max so vulnerable. She must have been staring, because Max caught her eyes and glared.

“The fuck are you staring at all goo-goo eyed? Don’t you have laundry to do?”

“Yeah, I was enjoying you not being a little shit for a few minutes. You almost looked innocent, listening to David like that. Then you shattered the whole illusion by opening your mouth.” Gwen stuck her tongue out. In the back of the apartment, the laundry machined buzzed in its completion. Max smirked and Gwen stood to change loads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this one! We might be facing another one, just a heads up, since Jaye has been having some internet troubles so no writing has been getting done. We'll keep you guys updated, however, and post more as soon as we're able to, or during our scheduled update time! We also hope you all had a good new years <3


	12. Chapter 11

Max and Gwen went shopping later that week. The Kmart she’d dragged Max to wasn’t too busy, but the main customers seemed to be middle-aged mothers. Which was making Gwen a bit self conscious. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t guessed this. School was back and it was midweek - who else would be shopping now?

 

She stared with a dull expression at the racks around them. Admittedly she may not have thought through her offer very hard. She just remembered thinking David was an idiot for not having taken Max clothes shopping once he decided to basically adopt him and something along the lines of  _ ‘if you want something done right…’ _ . The problem was she didn’t even like shopping for  **herself** let alone for someone else.

 

“Just pick something already.” She demanded, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

 

She was sick of being here and Max hadn't even  **looked** at any clothes yet. He looked up at her, his expression strikingly similar to her own.

 

“You’re a girl, aren't you meant to like shopping?”

 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

 

“Oh yeah? Well aren't you meant to have a turban?”

 

A look of disbelief and insult flashed across Max’s face before his mouth cut into a wicked expression.

 

“Your nose is missing a bone stuck through it.”

 

“Where’s your cabbie hat?”

 

“Aren't you meant to be eating watermelon?”

 

“ _ Pee-yoo _ , say it don’t spray it, curry breath.”

 

Max’s cunning expression dropped in one full movement and he tipped his head back, letting out an upset groan.

 

“Fuuuuck, I wish!”

 

“What? Oh, ah ha, damn, yeah - so how's David's cooking treating you?”

 

She smirked at him and Max spun around to jab an accusing finger at him.

 

“You knew about this!”

 

She didn't bother holding back her laughter.

 

“I didn't, but I can guess. I mean, he thought the 'eggs’ at camp had 'flavour’ so…”

 

“He doesn't have a single fucking spice in his kitchen - I fucking  **looked** .”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah! Doesn't even use pepper and salt  **in** the actual food. Just on the table.”

 

Gwen chuckled at that and looked out at the racks of clothes. She knew David could cook, both because he’d run cooking camp with her before and because he claimed that every camper should know how to have a proper cook-out. But she could imagine the types of meals he was serving to Max. Of course if David knew how badly he was fucking up…

 

“Hey, have you actually  **told** him?”

 

“Hm?”

 

She turned to look at him.

 

“Have you actually told David that his food is completely bland and that he should learn to use some spices?”

 

Max looked uncomfortable at the question, which she wasn't entirely surprised about. Max was happy to sling shit with her but any time conversation actually got real and even semi-serious, he shut down or got shifty and awkward.

 

His answer was a shrug and a noncommittal sound.

 

“Seriously, if you told him he’d probably bend over backwards trying to cook better.” She hesitated, knowing that the next part was going to make Max feel awkward, “I mean, David likes being liked anyway  **and** he really is trying to be a good guardian for you. If he knew he wasn't doing as good a job as he could…”

 

Max wasn't looking at her, studiously staring at the clothing racks. After a pause where it became clear she wasn't going to say anything else for change the subject, Max shrugged again and then walked off down an aisle.

 

Gwen just watched him for a moment, then followed after with their still empty cart. Max was finally actually looking at some clothes. Jeans, unsurprisingly. He wasn’t touching the folded up pants, but he was looking them over. Gwen leaned on the handles of the cart, looking around the store of the umptenth time. They’d been here way too long for the cart to be this empty. She hoped David’s house hunting prep was going better than this or he wouldn’t be in a new place until next year.

 

“Do you want them?”

 

Max helpfully shrugged in reply;

 

“They’re alright.”

 

She squinted at him, something in his tone twanging a familiar cord in her.

 

“You do remember that money literally isn’t an object for us, right? It’s all on David’s plastic.” she whipped her hand over the other, as if raining Max in cash.

 

He shrugged again. Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten all touchy feely and brought up actually communicating with David. Poor little emotionally stunted kid. Still, she only had so much patience and he was fucking around. She rolled her eyes and asked;

 

“What’s your size?”

 

“A 10.”

 

She flicked through the jeans before throwing a few pairs into the cart, then grabbed a few in 12 for good measure. Couldn’t hurt to have a whole bunch of jeans, they were the everyman of clothing in her opinion. That done, she returned to leaning against the cart handle. Max was looking up at her with a guarded expression.

 

_ Oh, good. So it wasn’t the whole David thing. This is way easier. _

“What?” she challenged, her eyebrows up, “You wanted them, right? Now come on, what else? We can get you some more pants, maybe shorts. Gotta get shirts and then all that shit like pajamas and underwear and crap.”

 

If anything, Max just looked up at her with an even more skeptical look, his hip cocked to the side.

 

_ Fine, wanna play? _

 

“Or…. I could do all the shopping for you. Get you some nice  **pine tree shirts** . Some  **cargo shorts** . And of course a good pair of  **hiking boots** .”

 

She smirked as Max’s expression narrowed.

 

“Go suck a dick, Gwen.” he said as he flipped her off and turned away to stalk off down the aisle.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought ya little shit.” she muttered at his back.

 

He flipped her off over his shoulder, proving that her muttering hadn’t quite been quiet enough.

 

But he started picking things up and putting things in the cart, at least, so she considered it a roaring success. A few joggers and some sweats, logos up their sides. Handfuls of graphic tees that looked like they would hang lower than his hoodie did but then again they got a few more hoodies too. Some letterman jackets, too. They bought multiples of everything, mostly at Gwen’s insistence.

 

She left him trying on shoes while she got the more boring basics - underwear, singlets and socks. Once she came back with a few multi-packs, she found Max sitting on the floor with four pairs of shoes around him, three of them held to their pair with a ring of elastic and the last his original sneakers. He looked up at her, tucked his socked feet under his own lap as he sat.

 

“Which was your favourite?”

 

He thought of a moment, then pushed a pair closer to her.

 

“These.”

 

She looked at the sneakers - similar to his current sneakers, though with a tick logo on their side. She looked at the considerably more shiny high tops next to them - high tops with their connecting elastic stretched out as if worn.

 

She picked up all the shoes except for the high tops and dumped them in the cart after verifying that they were his size. She waited for him to put his new shoes on but when he just looked up at her warily she kneeled down and snapped the elastic off before presenting them to him again.

 

“They just need the barcode,” she explained, brandishing the ticket she’d freed from the elastic, “I’ll tell them to scan it when we go pay.”

 

Max still seemed hesitant as he slipped the new shoes on. He kept his eyes down on the shoes as he asked;

 

“We done?”

 

Gwen shook her head.

 

“Few more things. You need some peejays and, I dunno, a fucking toothbrush or something.”

 

She pushed off, leading them to the other relevant sections. She still had to prompt him but at least now he would actively choose things for the cart. As she wheeled into the toiletries section, she turned and realised Max had disappeared from her side. Unsurprised but well-versed in finding an escaping Max, she came to a halt and turned 180.

 

Contrary to her expectations, Max hadn’t run off. He was, however, lingering near a display. A small mannequin was dressed up in a trendy outfit, similar to the kind of things Max had picked out for himself. However it was also adorned with a snapback cap with the word “ _ Trouble _ ” embroidered in gold thread on the front. There was a rack of them just behind the mannequin.

 

He turned a moment later, catching Gwen looking at him, and scowled at her as he started to return. Of course he wasn’t going to just throw it in the cart. Gwen walked passed, grabbed the hat right off of the mannequin and pulled it onto Max’s head. He swatted at her hands but as she retreated he merely adjusted the hat, looking sheepish.

 

They returned to their abandoned trolley and continued on.

 

“You really don’t like asking for things, do you?”

 

Max hunched into his hoodie and shrugged. She wasn’t going to push it, but she didn’t major in psychology for nothing. She had one last angle.

 

“I get it. My parents - I mean, like. They weren’t David rich. But honestly they weren’t bad off. Middle class, I guess? Anyway, they did alright. Except, then they had a bunch of kids - five of us, actually. I’m the second oldest. And they always encouraged us to speak up. To ask if we wanted something. But…”

 

She slowed as the past returned to her, scenes flowing through her head of standing in shops or in her living room, asking her parents. Teenage years where she would beg. She just wanted what the other girls had at school. She didn’t think it was anything special, really. Just wanted to be normal.

 

“But you only get told ‘no’ so many times before you… just stop asking. They always had a good reason. Bills or food or someone else had a tutor or a lesson or what the fuck ever. But eventually I just learned… Yeah. That it didn’t matter how much I asked, I couldn’t have anything I wanted. It was meant to get better when I moved out, but then I had debt and a shitty job and I  **still** couldn’t buy anything. Could barely buy food no matter a fucking coffee. So I just… Fuck. Yeah. You just learn to stop giving a shit and shut the fuck up.”

 

The ambience of the Kmart filled the space between them as they walked down the aisles side-by-side.

 

“Dad and Mom had the opposite problem.”

 

Gwen kept her eyes forward, not looking down and barely even slowing from her already languid pace as Max begun to speak.

 

“Like, still not David-rich because come the fuck on he’s just stupid rich. Like seriously, what the fuck?!” Max went quiet before continuing, “They had the money. I fucking know they did. But they just. It was essentials only. If it wasn’t for my education then it wasn’t important enough to buy. They picked out all my clothes, trying to make me look ‘neat’ and ‘proper’ and ‘smart’. Molding me into this-  **this-!** I don’t even know! They had some idea for what I should be and any time I asked for something  **I** wanted, something for  **me** they looked at me like I was some kind of **fucking idiot** . Like I’d fucked up the most basic fucking thing. Like--!”

 

“Like you should be ashamed for asking?” Gwen chanced the interruption, knowing the words he was reaching for.

 

“Exactly!” he almost shouted as he threw his arms up in frustration, “Like I should be fucking ashamed just for asking for a shirt I wanted or a fucking ice cream or to buy a song. Like those are stupid things for me to be asking for! Like- Fuck! Pita even said it once - to my face. ‘You are better than that, Maximillion’. Better than fucking what? What the fuck was he even talking about?!”

 

He was panting by the end of it, and Gwen let him cool off. His parents had seriously saddled him with a lot of bullshit to deal with.

 

“Y’know, just when I think your parents can’t be even bigger douchebags than they already are you say something more about them and they take the shit-stain cake all over again.”

 

It was not a happy laugh that Max replied with, but it was something.

 

\---

 

“So why so many clothes, anyway. No, shut up, I know I have ‘literally nothing’ but fucking seriously Gwen. This is overkill.”

 

“Eh,” she shrugged in reply, “If you have enough then if David ever makes you start doing chores you can still go months between having to do laundry.”

 

“What the fuck does that mean?”

 

“You can just wear all your clothes and do one massive wash at the end.”

 

Max stared at her in a mix of horror and awe.

 

“Gwen. That is super gross.”

 

She just grinned; “I can also make fourteen distinct meals out of ramen.”

 

He burst out laughing, “You are the worst fucking role model!”

 

He was still laughing as they approached the counter, so Gwen tugged the brim of his hat down over his thick hair. It worked to stop him laughing as he stopped to flail at her, trying to fend her off.

 

“Quit it!”

 

“Then stop being such a brat.” she said with a smile.

 

“When you find a use for your liberal arts degree, sure.”

 

Gwen’s next retort was cut off by a stifled giggle. She and Max both looked up to catch sight of the young cashier who was looking studiously down at her scanner, embarrassment clear on her face. She glanced up and seemed to balk as she realised Gwen was looking at her.

 

“Sorry. Just - you two are being cute. It’s nice to see a boy who’s not worried about being seen with his mom.”

 

“My  **Mom** ?” Max squeaked out as Gwen looked at the cashier with a wide-eyed expression. 

 

“Y-yeah? Oh shi-shoot, are you not?”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Gwen dismissed, but nonetheless conversation was stilted after that.

 

The drive home was no less stilted. The back seat and the trunk was full of bags, but the two in the front seats let the drone of the radio fill the silence between them.

 

Gwen side eyed him as she tried to keep her focus on the road ahead, wondering if she ought to say something about it. Half of her knew he wouldn’t reply, or at the least put up a struggle to. The other half - perhaps the one who pushed her to even get that psych degree in the first place - knew he should talk about it. She chewed on her lower lip absently as the song changed on the radio. Although she had worked with kids for several years at Camp Campbell, it wasn’t as if she was treating them from a psych point of view. She didn’t know how to go about the subjects with a ten year old. An adult, maybe, but Max? Well, she had gotten some progress the last time she had watched Max for David.

 

As she opened her mouth to bring it up, Max was already on top of it.

 

“It’s fine, Gwen, we don’t need to talk about it.” He stated resolutely, still looking out the window. Gwen frowned. Unlike David, she wasn’t about to take that.

 

“Well, I think we should.” She replied. When he didn’t reply, she continued; “Why did that make you so upset?”

 

Straight to the point. She could see Max tense.

 

“It didn’t make me fucking upset.”

 

“Well, you’re doing a shitty job at being not upset, then.”

 

“I don’t  **_know_ ** , okay?!” He shouted, turning to glare at her.

 

Gwen flinched internally, remembering that despite his maturity, he was still a kid. He didn’t have the level of introspection others did. His outburst was honest, and though he tried to turn away quickly she could see the glisten of tears in his eyes. A nerve had been touched and then she went and poked it again.

 

“I’m sorry, Max.” She said softly after a few more moments of silence. “It’s okay not to know. And it’s okay to be upset about this shit. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

 

More silence.

 

“I’m glad I grabbed that hat for you, though.” She said, trying to turn the conversation. “Looks dope on you.”

 

That earned a snicker from the silent boy.

 

“Yeah, I guess it’s kinda cool.” He replied quietly, running a finger along the brim of the snapback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its late again! If I keep forgetting I may just have to move the update day to Sundays haha.
> 
> Anyway, shopping adventures~!


	13. Chapter 12

David dutifully swung the door open at the impatient knock from (he presumed) Gwen or Max. They pushed their way inside with their collective arms positively full of bags. After dumping the bags in the middle of the lounge room, Gwen grabbed his arm, dragging him back out the door as Max led the way.

 

“Come on, you can help us grab the rest.”

 

“The **rest?** ” David squeaked, already aghast at the amount of bags they’d brought home and unable to conceive of even more.

 

“Yes, the rest. Duh.”

 

“Yeah David,” snarked Max from his lead position, “Get with the program.”

 

They managed to hang the remaining bags on their three sets of arms and Gwen locked up her car with just a minor struggle. As they hip checked their way back into David’s apartment, he finished his thought;

 

“I just don’t understand how you could’ve bought this much. I mean, not to be an Anxious Annie but this is  **a lot** .”

 

Gwen shot him a familiar look of unimpressment;

 

“He had literally no clothes. We had to buy a lot. Okay?"

 

Max looked up from where he was rifling around in the bags, a wicked-mean grin on his face. He looked straight at David as he asked;

 

“Or do you want me to walk around naked all day?”

 

His heart skipped a beat or five and yet still managed to push an inordinate amount of blood up into his cheeks. Max was saying something like that  **now?** Right under Gwen’s nose? Had he decided he was going to tell on David? That he was going to reveal everything? Had he  **already** told Gwen? Was she just getting all of his things inside before she called the police? Was she not even going to bother with the police and just bash his head in right-

 

“Shut the fuck up, Max.” Gwen laughed, giving him a light smack upside his head.

 

David pulled up out of his spiral of anxiety to watch reality as Gwen laughed at Max and Max made some jab back at her, giving her hip a rough push. Everything was okay. Max was just joking and Gwen had just taken it as a joke. This was all okay.

 

He let a smile return to his face and picked up his hostly duties by getting everyone a drink.

 

\---

 

David stood at the kitchen sink, busying himself with cleaning the glasses he’d served to everyone before. It was nice to have the apartment full, even if technically Gwen had been their only guest. Maybe it was the bags that had make it feel like more? Hm.

 

“Hey David!”

 

“Max don’t shout.” he shouted back.

 

“Wanna see my new stuff?”

 

“Oh, sure!” Max opening up? This was borderline nice by the boy’s standards.

 

He tipped the last glass upside down and let it drip dry so as to quickly head out into the lounge room. David flopped down on the couch, looking up eagerly for what Max had to show him. Only for Max to languidly peel off his shirt, tossing it off to the side. David’s eyes lingered at his navel, the sight sudden and captivating.

 

_ Oh geez. And I’d been so good today. _

 

Trying to ignore the blush, he flicked his eyes up to the ceiling. If Max wanted to model his shirts then he wouldn’t let his stupid affliction get in the boy’s way. He waited for Max to call his attention.

 

“Hey, what are you doing?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You’re looking up. What are you doing?”

 

“I’m.. just… Being polite?”

 

He hoped that excuse would work. It was technically true, anyway. Well it was true in a stretch. It seemed inadequate to say that it was merely polite to not oogle little boys.

 

“Don’t you want to see my new clothes?”

 

“Of course I do!” he almost made the mistake of looking down, “So if you’ll just tell me when you have your new shirt on-”

 

“Don’t you want to watch me change shirts?”

 

“I… don’t think that’s necessary real-”

 

“Don’t you wanna watch me take off my shirt?”

 

David gritted his teeth anxiously, trying not to let his worried whine escape his mouth. When it became obvious that Max was going to just wait for him, he responded;

 

“I believe that honesty is always the best policy so I think I’m just not going to answer that question, Max.”

 

“Is that what you’d say if a camper asked you that back at Camp?”

 

“Of course not.” David scowled at the ceiling.

 

“So if I’m already getting special exceptions then why not just give me one more and say it?”

 

“Well you already know why, Max. It seems. Redundant.”

 

He waited with bated breath to see if Max would accept that.

 

“...Okay.”

 

He let out a breath of relief as he tentatively looked down at Max’s face.

 

“Do you wanna see my new jeans?”

 

David opened his mouth to say yes - of course he wanted to see them. He was supportive of Max and his choices and was interested to see the type of things he’d bought today. But he caught a look in Max’s eye and his own gaze dropped down the boy’s baby fat torso on onto the fly of his old jeans. He dragged his eyes back up to Max’s face and tried to fight the blush that he could feel rising to his face.

 

If he said yes Max was for sure going to drop his pants right there and then, the same as he’d done with his shirt. God damnit now he was thinking about it, Max popping his fly open and slipping his tight jeans down his little legs revealing his soft thighs. He’d be wearing briefs, probably. Gosh he’d look so good-- No! He was not thinking about that because it was not a good thing and because if he kept thinking about it he’d start actually getting an erection instead of just sitting here sweating like a creep.

 

Max was still looking at him, expectant. Challenging. Gosh that challenging look in the boy’s eyes. It practically unravelled David every time. He was a pushover at the best of times but when it was Max challenging him he wanted to bare his throat and kneel and the boy’s feet. Or he wanted to grab the dumb little kid and hold his wrists tight and show him that he couldn’t go around challenging adults because adults where going to win every time. Adults had the power and it was only through mercy or morality that Max’s challenges went unmet.

 

Shoot, he really wants to watch Max strip.

 

He brings his gaze back from darting about the room to rest on Max’s face and, before he can think about it further, blurts out;

 

“No.”

 

Max raised an eyebrow, his hip cocking to the side. David tried not to pay too much attention to the sexy move.

 

“No? Oh yeah?” Max took a half-step forward, “And why not?”

 

David swallowed heavily, feeling sweat dribble down his temple. He spoke robotically, not trusting his emotions in the slightest. This was torture.

 

“I don’t want you to put yourself in danger. I don’t want to hurt you or- or even be tempted to hurt you. I don’t want to violate your privacy or, or, or take advantage of my position of power over you. I am aware of my limits and I believe that you t-ta-ta- you doing that would be beyond my limits.”

 

He couldn’t move though. Did he really believe that or was he just making fake platitudes so that he could later justify that he tried. Was he really trying if he stayed here? If he didn’t get up off the couch and leave?

 

“You really believe that, David? Even when you get nervous just seeing my chest? Even when you find it hard to say  **no** to a kid taking off his pants? Face it, idiot. You want me. You want me naked and moaning and at your mercy.”

 

David’s eyes squinted in psychosomatic pain and he ground his teeth nervously.

 

“You jerk off saying my name, asshole. You absolutely want this. You want to fuck me and perv on me and all of those other nasty fantasies that go on in your dirty pedo mind. So why don’t you just give up and stop giving a shit.”

 

David looked up at him, the boy’s head hanging, a mopy frown on his face. His stomach was churning and he could feel a cold sweat over his skin. Max stalked forward, his green eyes as intense as a big cat’s.

 

“You know, I was watching videos this morning. Before Gwen got here? You remember that time we all snuck into the back of the camp car and followed you into town? Well me and Nikki went into Muffin Tops. Thought you might’ve been in there. And I- ha- I was  **not prepared** . But I thought I’d look ‘em up.”

 

David breathed in deep, shaky breaths. Ineffectual breaths. He’d been in Muffin Tops before. It hadn’t been his thing. Thinking of small, brash Max walking around their tables and stages was his thing, though. Darn it.

 

“They have a website. Found some videos. The girls all had their clothes on, don’t worry. Well,” he rolled his eyes, an amused grin tugging at his lips, “They had their ‘underwear’ on.”

 

Max was walking forward again, his hands near his jeans’ waistband. God damnit David wanted to pull him into his lap and grind up into him. He could feel his breath shaking through his gaping mouth, shaking from fear and delight both. His hairline was wet with sweat, his clothes uncomfortably tight. His dick wasn’t hard, exactly, but it was uncomfortable where it lay tucked into his boxers. Max’s chest looked so cute right now; soft and warm and untouched.

 

“The vids gave me a few ideas. A few moves I could try…”

 

Max finished walking forward, stepping up into David’s personal space. David leaned back into the couch as Max stepped up between his legs. Max was so standing so close to him. He wanted to- He didn’t want to- His thoughts were jumbled, tripping over each other. His breath came faster now but still just as shaky. He blinked as spots began to cloud his eyes.

 

Max slipped his hands to his fly and popped open his button before slowly dragging his zipper down.

 

And David choked on his next breath and started to hyperventilate.

 

“Oh, fuck, shit!” Max spluttered, shock open on his face as he did up his fly and raced to tug his clothes back on.

 

David shook with his stuck breath, unable to take in any more breath nor able to breath out properly. He slapped his palm over his mouth, covering himself out of some panicked thought of propriety and out of the feeling that he might barf. He hunched over, his spare hand gripping his bare knee tight enough for his nails to scratch into his skin.

 

Max jumped up on the couch beside David and grabbed his hands, holding them and tightening his grip and David frantically tried to pull away.

 

“No. Shut up. Breath with me.”

 

Max rhythmically squeezed his hands gently, bringin the camp man back into his body and out of his panicking mind. He breathed in like Gwen had taught him, watching David like a hawk to make sure he complied. His earlier thoughts of teasing and… experimenting where long gone, his head now just desperately trying to recall how to help David pull up and out of the panic attack.

 

David’s breaths were still too fast, too frantic and he asked in a hurried and almost robotic voice, each syllable sounding like a seperate word;

 

“Why are you touching me I don’t want to hurt you I’m going to hurt you I can’t-”

 

“Shut the fuck up! Just breath. Squeeze my hands and breath.”

 

David’s breath stuttered but started to slow.

 

“You’re not going to hurt me, David.”

 

His breath started to stutter but Max plowed forward.

 

“Fucking quit it. You’re not going to hurt you. Neither of us is going to let you. You’d give yourself a heart attack before you hurt me. So just breath like I am. You want to make me happy? Then start by breathing. Come on.”

 

Eventually David went limp in Max’s hands, his shoulders slumped and he was finally able to close his mouth and breath through his nose. The pair sat there, still hand in hand, Max nervously trying not to be obvious about studying David and David simply coming down from the emotional rollercoaster he’d just put himself through.

 

David gently pulled his hands from Max’s, folding them in his lap. He was looking down over his knees at the carpeted floor.

 

“I’m going to go make a start on dinner.”

 

Max looked at him, confused disbelief on his face.

 

“It’s, like, four.”

 

David squeezed his eyes shut, has hands clenched into fists. Max wondered if he should try make him relax.

 

“Max. I really, really need to go do something,  **anything** right now. I need to. Be occupied. Please just pretend like this normal and not a really dumb excuse.”

 

There was a beat of silence before Max resolved himself.

 

“Whatever, I just don’t know why you need that long to boil plain fucking potatoes.”

 

A tight, thankful smile pulled across David’s face.

 

“Potatoes are good for you, Max. Especially without all the fatty butter you insist on adding.”

 

“Bor-ing-!” Max rolled his eyes and flicked on the TV.

 

David smiled to himself as he headed into the kitchen.

 

\---

 

It was barely five o’clock when David called him in for dinner. Orange light shone in through the window and they were both hyperaware of  **why** dinner was so early. The air over the table was thick enough to cut with a knife and even David wasn’t trying to make conversation. Dinner had never felt so awkward.

 

Worse, David was forcibly pretending that nothing was wrong. His smiles were clenched, his eyes a touch manic. He was talking in a tone that was overly saccharine even for David. It was making Max’s stomach clench. He barely wanted to eat already but the nauseous guilt he could feel churning in his stomach was just making it that much worse.

 

“Come on, Max! Don’t just pick at your food!”

 

Shit, he fucked up. Why the fuck did he do that, anyway? To sate some weird fucked up impulse? What the fucking hell. He glanced up at David, seeing the strain at the corners of his mouth.

 

“Max… Come on!” David warns him, still in his chipper tone, “I want to see you eat at least three quarters of what’s on your plate! It’s not  **that** bad!”

 

“It tastes shitty.” Max blurts out, somewhat shocked at himself.

 

David opens his tense mouth to give some typical retort, but Max powers on forward;

 

“It’s bland. Like, really fucking bland. I’m just not. Not used to it. Maan used to cook curries or kebab or daal with roti and bryani and paneer. Maybe even gulab jaamun afterwards, if we were lucky. If Mom or Dad had gotten a promotion. But the stuff you cook has fuck all taste. Hell, you don’t even own any spices. I checked. It’s how I found where you stuff your meds. So even if I wanted to eat your shitty cooking isn’t fucking helping.”

 

He picked at the food, waiting for David’s rebuke. Telling him to be nicer and watch his language or something.

 

“Oh, Max…”

 

He glanced up as David’s surprisingly mournful voice floated over to him. At least he wasn’t forcing that cheer anymore.

 

“Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that at all. Of course this mustn’t be like what you’re used to eating at all. I’ll try harder, okay?”

 

Max sheepishly nodded and felt a glow of hope swell somewhere near his heart. 


	14. Chapter 13

Now that it was three am and Max had nothing better to occupy himself with than his thoughts, he was really starting to regret teasing David.

 

He’d woken up with his dick pressing into the couch and refusing to go down. So he’d pushed his hand down his pants and tried to masturbate like he’d been taught. But that thought had just led to David and his stupid fucking gasp. It should've made his stomach upend itself but instead…

 

Instead he had tried to think of Muffin Tops.

 

That was the sort of thing boys should be jerking off to, right? Girls in silky underwear that barely covered their boobs and only just covered the slit of their pussies. Rolling their hips and grinding against the pole. Or against some guy’s lap.

 

Would he have done that, if David hadn’t had a panic attack? Would he have turned around like the women in the videos did and rubbed his ass up against David’s lap? Would David have been hard? Probably. Like, he liked him, right? He’d masturbated to the thought of Max before. Held him while he… What if David had started masturbating then? Had rubbed himself through his shorts while Max rubbed up against him.

 

Or would David have pulled his dick out and rubbed it up against him? Would Max have let him? Would he have let the man rub his penis against his underwear, feeling it through them, hearing David make all those-

 

“Ah~ Mmmm!”

 

Those heated sounds while he moved his hand faster, worked himself up more-

 

“Mmm! D-dav-...!”

 

Until Max could feel him cumming on his briefs, cumming up the small of his back, feel the wet sticky feel of his white, warm cum on his bare-

 

“Ah!”

 

Bare-

 

“Ahm~!”

 

Bare skin.

 

“Fucgh!”

 

Max buried his face in his pillow, muffling the sounds of his cries as bucked into his fist, the convulsions of orgasm forcing his body to move automatically while he rode it out.

 

He took a moment to come down from the blank haze of pleasure, then pulled his hand away from his crotch. At least there was nothing to clean up. He wanted to scowl at himself for getting carried away and for certainly not thinking about Muffin Tops while he masturbated, but after that he was too blissed out and too tired to muster up much of anything.

 

The next few days, Max didn’t try to instigate David again. The guilt still haunted him, but aside from that he was anxious over the fact he had actually jacked off thinking about David. It made him feel… Weird. And not entirely an uncomfortable weird, either. He didn’t want to dwell on it, and went about like nothing had happened to either of them. David was more than happy to accommodate that train of thinking, eagerly falling back into the safe pattern they had established.

 

On top of that, David had been making more effort to cook decent food to Maxs enjoyment. When they went out shopping, Max helped him pick out spices he remembered his mom having on hand in the kitchen, and David grabbed a few cookbooks. Max mostly cared about the one titled Flavors of India, but there were some other ones too. The idea of cooking more diversely seemed to entice the older man in ways Max didn’t quite understand. Maybe it was an adult thing. Maybe he just liked the idea of cooking of a distraction. To Max, it didn’t matter, as long as the food was more palatable than before.

 

It wasn’t nearly as good as maan’s, but it was a great start. The first night David made lamb curry over couscous, Max nearly ate himself sick. He had absolutely no regrets in doing so, spending the rest of the evening on the couch with a slightly round gut for the first time in months.

 

David seemed absolutely overjoyed at the reaction, noting the recipe in the book with a dogged ear for future reference.

 

Later on in that week, they were going to be heading out and looking at houses Gwen had suggested. Max figured without her help, they might have been waiting a lot longer to get this done at all. David seemed to have a little problem following through sometimes. Unless it was something Gwen directed him on, or something that made Max feel better. The last Max had noticed a lot more with a warm feeling in his gut. It was rare he asked for something reasonable and didn’t have to wait to get it. Like the cooking.

 

“Alright. Yeah. Yup, we’re heading there first!” David spoke into his cellphone, tugging on his shoes as Max leaned against the doorframe on his own phone.

 

Max was wearing one of his favourite newer outfits, a white tee shirt with a bear on it, dark jeans, and a navy blue zipper hoodie left open. It was getting chillier now as fall advanced on them, but not enough that he had to zip up quite yet. David hung up and gave Max a once over to make sure he was ready.

 

“Alright! Let’s go find our new home!” He said excitedly. The words gave Max a mixture of excitement and anxiety, but he offered David a small smile.

 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with or we’re never gonna move.”

 

The drive to the other side of town where the houses he had been looking at were was uneventful, David tapping the wheel in tune to the songs on the radio while Max looked out the window at the people passing by. Through the main shopping distance and to the outer edges where housing developments had erected various miles of suburban homes they drove, Max idly wondering if Gwen lived nearby. He didn’t think she would have suggested a place that far out from where she lived with her parents, knowing her enough to find some way to make it easier to do her job. Max wouldn’t fault her for that.

 

“Here’s the first place.” David said as they pulled into the driveway of a rather grand looking house. Other cars were parked nearby, the front doors open with yellow balloons tied to the door handle. An inviting sign sat on the lawn reading ‘OPEN HOUSE TODAY’.

 

“It looks… Too fancy.” Max sad, wrinkling his nose. The building was cream bricks with white window frames, a black tile roof peaking at its center. It looked at least two stories tall, with enough space for all of Gwen’s family, let alone just the two of them.

 

_Just the two of them._

 

The thought brought a mob of butterflies in his chest, but before he could even consider them, David piped up.

 

“Maybe! But we should go look around inside just in case.”

 

Max shrugged and undid his seatbelt, shoving hands in his sweater pocket and following David in. They were greeted by an older blonde woman who looked like she smiled so much that her face was stuck in a grotesque mockery of happiness, who handed them a brochure about this particular plot of houses, several of which were available for purchase.

 

Letting David do the adult stuff, Max wandered off to inspect the building. There were other people walking around, typically couples of men and women holding hands and discussing decor ideas excitedly. In the center of the entrance area - because this stupid house was so big it had an actual foyer that lead to the rest of the building - was a table with crisp white linens, adorned with fruits and cheese and crackers, as well as pitchers of juices. He grabbed a handful of crackers and cheese and continued on what felt like an expedition.

 

It all still felt… too much. Too big rooms with too white walls, the living room with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling and hardwood floors that felt too cold. He nearly jumped when David tapped him on the shoulder.

 

“Whatcha think, Max?” He asked, looking down with a warm smile.

 

“Nah. Too big and way too fancy.” Max replied, shaking his head and stuffing a cracker in his mouth. David nodded.

 

“I was feeling the same way… The real estate agent kept asking if I had a wife or more kids. This one house has 5 rooms and 2 bathrooms!” David said, glancing at the brochure. “I think Gwen suggested it because she figured I’d have the money to spend.”

 

“I mean. You **do**. But besides the point, if it’s just gonna be me and you I don’t like this at all…”

 

“Alright! Well, there’s a place a few streets over made by these same developers that’s smaller,” David said nodding his head. He opened the brochure to a different page and gave it to Max. “Looks a little less grand and little more homey.”

 

Max grabbed the paper and glanced it over. The specifications meant nothing to him, looking instead at the pictures that were given.

 

“Okay, let’s go then.”

 

David beamed at Max, ruffling his hair affectionately.

 

“There’s my go-getting pal!”

 

Max tilted his head out of David’s hand, offering a small grunt but didn’t wave him off entirely. Was he actually liking his stupid affectionate gestures? The idea made him clam up, walking off without David towards the car.

 

The next place was much nicer. Ruddy red bricks and a much smaller size, though the peaked roof still suggested a second floor. The windows were smaller, more comfortable and private. The door here was open too, though the driveway had fewer cars than the bigger almost-mansion they had been at. The gentleman who greeted them didn’t share the blonde woman’s borderline scary over enthusiasm, and stepping into the threshold Max felt… Right.

 

As David began discussing with that realtor, Max went off again to inspect. There was only one couple also looking at the house right now, a pair of women with one sporting a **very** round stomach. They went upstairs, leaving Max to look around alone. He could still hear David exchanging chatter with the other guy, matching enthusiasm.

 

The kitchen was the first place he poked into. Carpeting ran through the living room and up the stairs, but left the entrance and kitchen with sealed hardwood. There was enough room to have a table in there, a dining room and kitchen, and there was an island across from the stove. The cabinets were carved of some dark, reddish wood, and the countertops were marble. Still fancy, but smaller. Definitely more cozy.

 

He wandered into the living room next, finding David inspecting the amount of outlets. Max rolled his eyes and went to the larger set of windows. He could see out to the small front yard, and squinted off at something in the distance.

 

“Hey, Gwen suggested this one, right?” He asked.

 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, she wanted us to go to the big one first, but seemed really interested in this one!” David replied happily.

 

“Yeah, no wonder, I can see her from here.”

 

“What?” David went over to the window, and sure enough, a street down, Gwen was leaning out of a second floor balcony with her eyes on the building they were in. Max flipped her off and David pushed his hand down, waving at her instead. Gwen returned Max’s gesture anyway, before retreating back into her house. “Well… It won’t be much of a drive for her!”

 

“Yeah, no shit. She was plotting this!” Max exclaimed. “I have half a mind to say I hate it here.”

 

“Do you?” David asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice. Max groaned a little.

 

“No. I actually… Like it. Kinda.” He admitted. David beamed and Max held up a finger. Then he put it down and shrugged. Davids enthusiasm was still cut short but the sudden action, Max not telling him off for it.

 

“Oh, Max!” David said, swooping down for a hug. “I like it, too.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, we don’t need to hug this out! Just. Go do paperwork things.” Max said, ignoring the warmth on his face. Christ, what was _wrong_ with him?

 

As David went back to talk to the realtor, Max went up stairs to inspect the bedrooms. The master room was huge, more than enough for David, and the other room was pretty sizeable too. He’d have plenty of room and an actual door for his own privacy. And unlike his parents, he doubted David was going to bust in without being nice enough to knock. He liked it already.

 

“Do I have good tastes, kid?” Came an unexpected voice from behind. Max spun around to see Gwen leaning on the doorframe, her hair pulled into a hasty messy bun and wearing a sweater two sizes too big.

 

“No, you don’t. But the house is nice.” Max said, offering a smirk. She laughed. “Also, I can’t believe you chose a place practically next door!”

 

“Hey, my car is already super shitty, at least I can just walk over now. Well. If you guys get a house on this street. I think they’re using this one as a show house till the owners move in next month...” she mused.

 

“Just… ask David for a new car?” Max suggested, as if it was the most obvious thing.

 

“I mean. I could. But I don’t wanna ask for too much. He’s already paying me **way** more than any public school teacher would make. I’m actually gonna be able to move out soon! A car might be a little much.”

 

“Aight, your choice.” Max said with a shrug.

 

“Max! Come downstairs, please!” David called.

 

The realtor was wearing a much more scary excited face now, tapping something into his phone as Max and Gwen came down the stairs.

 

“I still have a ton of paperwork to fill out and insurances to go over and companies to contact- but I did make an offer a house like this.” David explained. “Once everything is settled and done, we can move into the house 3 doors down.”

 

“Yes!” Gwen whooped, raising her fists in the air. “Now I can just walk to your place to help with Max.”

 

“Good, you could afford some exercise.” Max jabbed with a smirk. Gwen glanced at the realtor, talking on the phone now, before swiping at Max gently. He snickered, waving her off and found David watching them warmly.

 

“Now you just need to furniture shopping.” Gwen said, cocking her hips and crossing her arms. David lit up at the idea of more shopping and Max groaned.

 

\---

 

Furniture shopping with Gwen present wasn’t as painful as Max thought it would be. She tried to talk David into getting a lot of extravagant items, some that Max voiced interest in, too, but David stayed firm. They absolutely did not need a 60 inch projector screen in place of a TV, or a gold gilded table to eat dinner at.

 

They settled on a few new furniture pieces; a new sectional couch, a lay-z boy, a bed, boxspring, and mattress for Max, and a more grand entertainment center.

 

“I may need your help on getting decorations, too…” David mused as they drove back to Gwen’s place. She was sitting shotgun, Max in the backseat and not pleased about it. He’d grown used to the pleasures of shotgun seating.

 

“Yes! I’d love that. Honestly, interior decorator would be a job I could totally do.” She replied, tapping a finger to her chin.

 

“Too bad you already have like five useless degrees and are a teacher now.” Max snickered.

 

“No, too bad for you, ‘cause i’m **totally** going to decorate your bedroom my _self._ ”

 

“What?! Hell no, David tell her she gets no part in that!”

 

“Maybe she can help a little bit?” David offered.

 

“Fuck no, she’s gonna put flowers and girly shit.” Max replied with a pout.

 

“I will _not_ !” Gwen exclaimed. “Have you **met** me? Besides, you seem pretty happy with the clothing I helped your indecisive ass pick. Admit it. I have good tastes, and you need me.”

 

“Never.” Max replied, smiling despite himself at the banter. David chuckled at them, pulling into Gwen’s driveway.

 

“Dang, Gwen, what happened to your car?” David asked, remarking at the vehicle that looked like it was ready to fall to pieces.

 

“Ugh. Some asshole swiped it when I went to the store a few weeks ago.” She replied dejectedly. “Still runs, just. Not as well. And looks like shit.”

 

“You should get her a new car.” Max pipped up with a nonchalant edge to his voice. Gwen turned back to glare at him but he was busy picking the lint from the inside of his hoodie pockets.

 

“Of course! I don’t want you to risk getting hurt because of your car…” David said.

 

“Wait- Really?” Gwen asked. “Like, you already pay me out the ass but you’d help me get a car?”

 

“Of course. I… Kind of feel bad for not letting you know sooner I had money.” David replied with a small shrug. “You’ve been helping us out so much! Consider it an early Christmas gift?”

 

“Well, my birthday is the second of December, so like, an early birthday gift works.” She suggested.

 

“Sure!” David said with a bright smile. Gwen launched herself at him in a tight hug.

 

“You’re an overly happy piece of shit but I love you, David.” She said. Max raised a brow at her, then looked to David.

 

“Awe, Gwen, you’re the best friend I have, of course.” He said, returning her hug.

 

“Okay, break it up, you two are being gross.”

 

“Hey, this is ‘cause of you, brat.” Gwen replied, sticking her tongue out at him and pulling back. “Besides, you’re allowed to be gross and huggy with friends. Especially friends who just offered to buy you a fucking car.”

 

Gwen reached back to run her hands through Max’s hair, then got out of the car. Max quickly took her seat, crawling over the center console and plopping into shotgun. His rightful place.

 

“That was nice of you to suggest, Max.” David mused, pulling out of the lot. Max shrugged wordlessly, but smiled a small smile as he watched Gwen retreat into her house.  A warm feeling spread throughout him. He felt good, nice, okay, safe. He felt cared for.


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I apologize for the short hiatus, and also forgetting to upload this chapter on the 17th as promised. It's a very heavy and awkward chapter so treat carefully.
> 
> WARNING for some self harm, not in the typical way it is presented but its still there.

The very next day, David woke with his cheeks stained with tears and his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn’t remember the dream, just the fear and snippets of sharp words. Max’s sharp words and not his usual profanity. Telling David how he hated him, how he regretted ever coming to his house, how he thought David had actually **cared**. Implying that David didn’t.

 _Maybe,_ he thought as he stumbled to his wastebin and held his head over it, _Maybe I don’t._

He could’ve taken any time to take advantage of Max. And he wanted to. Everytime Max tried to tempt him, twisted his words, used himself as a threat because he **knew** David felt guilty, he wanted to say fuck it and cave. It was right there, sitting in front of him like the world's worst present. Water for a thirsty man. Food for the starving.

Bait.

It would ruin everything. Max would hate him even more, end up more fucked in the head then David was. Who would he have then, when the last adult he trusted turned on him? But, god, it was so tempting. He was so small, and weak, and soft. So easily corrupted, ravaged, tainted.

David pulled at his hair till his scalp hurt but it didn’t help the erection pressing painfully against his pants.

It wouldn’t even be difficult at this point. Max had come to **him** after all. He could just go back to Max and ask;

 

_“Have you been masturbating? Has what I told you been working?”_

 

That was already too much, that already had his skin crawling and his dick throbbing. He dug his nails into his scalp as he pulled at the roots of his hair.

 

He could ask; “ _Show me. Show me how you do it. I’ll make sure. Here, let me help. Let me show you, let me touch you and show you how it feels.”_

 

Golly, Max had even asked about blowjobs. Did he have any idea how it felt to hear that? How often that innocent question haunted David’s thoughts? How often David imagined if he’d been bad and given in and just shown him how good it felt? Burying his face in Max’s crotch and-

He bit done on his tongue, yelping at the pain and then angrily biting himself again. So what if it hurt? So **fucking** **_what_ **? He deserved it. It was the least that he deserved. Better to hurt and bruise and bleed than to get a raging erection over a gosh darn ten year old child. A child. He was a freak. It was that simple. He was a terrible horrible freak and he was an immoral monster for not already telling Gwen or telling the darn police. For not telling the FBI; he was pretty sure he still had Ered’s dads’ contact number. He could call them and turn himself in. He wasn’t just a pedophile, he was rapist. He…

Was going to throw up.

David shoved his head back into the waste bin and gagged on his own spit, trying to spill the churning acid in his stomach. The smell of sick permeated the enclosed space, psychosomatically enforcing his need to upend his stomach. Spit dribbled out of his mouth in one long and unbroken stream. He spat, a dollop landing at the bottom of the bin.

He deserved to have his head in the bin along with the rest of the trash.

He stared at the dark bottom of his wastebin, waiting to see if the feeling - of vomit, of lust, any of them - had passed. The acute nausea was put off for the time being and he sat back and leaned up against the side of his bed. He looked down between his legs to confirm what he could still feel: his erection was still there.

He looked up at his bedside table, at the few things up there. Without any conscious thought, he leaned over to his lamp and switched it off, unplugged it and sat back. He unscrewed the bulb, a faint awareness of breaking glass being a bad thing. His mind was stuck, replaying the thought over and over of asking Max how his masturbation was going. To pry into the child’s sexual life. To squeeze and force his way into it.

He raised the lamp and slammed it down on his foot. Pain jolted through him and he flinched back from himself. His instinct was to throw it away from himself or to at least put it down. But a burst of angry sprung into his lungs and tampered with the beat of his heart. He grit his teeth, clenched his fist around the lamp, held his muscles tight. He held the lamp up high again and felt like he was staring down a bull after dousing himself in red paint.

He brought the lamp down again in wild swings, aiming for his foot but hitting his shin and knee just as often. The floor took a few strikes, too.

Only when there was a knock on the door did he jump him his seat, his hand spasming and the lamp tumbling out of his grip. He hurried to wipe his tears with his arms and sticky palms, clutching his legs to his chest and trying to hid his crotch from himself.

David opened his mouth once and then twice, gaping like a breathless fish. He swallowed and squeezed his face up, his teeth grinding together and his eyes pressed desperately tight. If he pressed hard enough, maybe he could just escape his cursed existence.

 

“David? Are you- Did you have breakfast yet? Just. I can make my own lunch I just... Wanted to know what I can use?”

 

He buried his face in his knees, squeezing his hands over his ears, digging his nails into the skin. He couldn’t listen to Max’s pleas right now. Couldn’t hear the waver in his voice where he became insecure. Couldn't hear the boy try to care without giving a shit.

Certainly couldn’t go open his bedroom door with his erection level with Max’s face.

He curled up in on himself instead.

 

* * *

Max backed away from the door with a cold shiver dripping down his scalp like someone had cracked an egg over him and it had somehow seeped through his thick hair. 

It was early afternoon and the house was damningly quiet. David was usually up with the sun, chipper even when he wasn't exactly bright. It had been a long time since he hadn't been roused from bed by the smell of breakfast and Max was finding the absence conspicuous.

He had waited until late morning before creeping into the kitchen to search for signs of life. Finding nothing out of place he had creeped back out of the room without bothering to eat. He didn't feel hungry anyway.

As late morning ticked over into midday Max realised everything was feeling damningly familiar. The television was off, his phone turned not just on silent but down to emergency alert mode so that it wouldn't even vibrate. He had tried to go on the internet but his own nerves had eaten away at any fun it might have provided. He was hyperaware of how much data he was using, aware practically to the level of paranoia. David was rich, sure, absurdly so, but it was still his money. You got rich by saving money, by being scrupulous. Did Max think they got rich buy buying the newest pair of rapper sneakers every time there was a fad? No! He had to be smarter than the boys at his school. He had to be better, smarter, **perfect**.

So Max stuck to silently playing games on his phone instead, Mr. Honeynuts tucked under one arm for company.

But midday had turned into afternoon and David still hadn't appeared. It was passed their usual lunchtime and he hadn't heard a peep from the man.

Which, of course, was when Murphy’s Law decided to interfere and a loud _THUMP!_ came from David's room. Max jumped in his seat, the deadly silence shattered around him. He waited, tensed like a sprinter waiting for the gun, and sure enough there was another thump and a smash. Totally not frightened but clutching Mr. Honeynuts under his arm, Max warily approached the bedroom door.

There were sounds of pain amidst the thumps, David's tell tale yelps and high pitched exclamations. Was he building something…? Except he was actually kind of good at building. What was…? He almost sounded angry, Max realised with a flinch. Like father when someone 'stole’ his deal. Except…

He raised his hand to the doorknob, then flinched back at another shout. A dull sound but it felt like it was right in his ear. He moved his hand to knock instead.

 

“David? Are you- Did you have breakfast yet? Just.”

 

Just what? Why was he here? What was he hoping to get out of this? Max didn't know. He just knew the house was more quiet than it had ever been and David was making pained or angry sounds and. He didn't know. He didn't know what was going on.

He didn't want to be a burden. If David decided he was sick of Max then where would he go? Gwen wouldn't put up with him if David wouldn't. She hated him, called him Satan, said he was a shithead.

 

”I can make my own lunch I just-.”

 

Just **what**? This was stupid. This was such a stupid idea. He was just bothering David. Or giving him another heart attack.

 

“Wanted to know what I can use?”

 

He waited. When there was no answer, he pressed his ear to the door. There was the sound of sobbing from inside.

He just wanted to know if David was okay! If David was alright, if Max had fucked things up, if the adult was still there to do adult things! He couldn't-! He just couldn't-!

Max screwed his face up. Crying was for immature babies. He was ten. He wasn't a baby. He was better than that.

He returned to the kitchen, the linoleum lined room feeling ten times larger than usual. Max still wasn't hungry but David would be angry if he came out and found out Max hadn't eaten all day. He had to be more capable than that. He opened the fridge. It wasn't quite as full as usual, as they were trying to eat up everything in preparation of moving, but there was salad and meats and cheese. He could work with this.

Except, he couldn't be sure what David had planned for dinner. What if he ate some tomato and spoiled a salad? If he used some chicken and spoiled a pasta? If he cooked the fish and spoiled a curry? After complaining that David never cooked curries, too!

Max closed the fridge.

He tried the pantry instead but was met with a similar dilemma. What could he eat that wouldn't get him in trouble? It had been easier at camp - meal times were mandatory and servings were allocated. Also Campbell was stingy as fuck and he didn't feel bad about stealing from him. Not that he felt bad about stealing from David.

...Not that he was stealing from David.

He closed the pantry.

He wasn't feeling hungry anyway.

 

* * *

It was eight o’clock before Max’s stomach revolted against him and demanded that he eat. He braved the pantry a second time and convinced himself that David wouldn't fault him two slices of bread and a scrape of peanut butter. If he even noticed. He ate the sandwich over the sink, washing away the crumby evidence when he was done, leaving the kitchen clean once more. The butter knife got a similar treatment as he washed and dried it by hand like David usually did.

He didn't normally do the dishes but it felt wrong to leave it to David this time. A strict Punjabi voice rang in his ears when he tried.

As he exited the kitchen, he came face to face with David. It looked like he had haphazardly gotten himself dressed, shirt on backwards but still wearing the yellow scarf around his neck.

He frozen like (an idiot) a deer caught in the headlights. It was only when David gave him the world’s most weary smile that he realised he’d been holding himself tense and ready to… To what he wasn’t sure. He’d felt like he was bracing for an impact.

David’s smile looked really bad. If it could be called a smile at all. It was an expression more suited to Gwen’s face than the happy camp man’s.

 

“I’ll do dinner. You’re hungry? Did you eat?”

 

There was something weird about his speech. Max nodded anyway, neither of them actually moving.

 

“I ate a sandwich for lunch.”

 

He omitted how long ago he’d eaten it. David looked at the kitchen passed him and Max belatedly panicked about his plate that was clean and dry in the cupboard. Maybe he should’ve left it as proof.

 

“Lunch- Did you ate breakfast?”

 

“Yes.” the lie was out of Max’s mouth before he’d realised it.

 

Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did he feel so tense? Max held himself back, stopping himself from fleeing the room. David was still looking somewhere over his head. He was nodding to himself now.

 

“Good, okay. Yes. Food. I’ll- Okay.”

 

Max watched David skirt around him, still without looking down, and head deeper into the little kitchen. He pivoted, only realising once he was fully turned around that he was keeping David in his sights. For his part, he’d stopped in the middle of the kitchen, apparently just staring around the room. Max watched as he headed to a cupboard and got out a bowl before retrieving some dry pasta and pouring it into bowl. Only to look at the prep with a heavy crease of confusion and attempt to put the bowl of pasta back in the cupboard before returning it to the countertop and pulling out a pot instead. He turned towards the pantry and, for the first time, caught Max’s eye.

He looked like he was going to cry and Max didn’t think it would be from joy this time.

David turned to him, his eyes dangerously wet but the rest of his face… Max couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t a look recognised on adults. It was how Nikki used to look at Ered. Except… It was how kids at school would look at kids like Nurf. Except...

It was the face he’d tried to forget about. The one he used to give to his parents before he realised they didn’t care.

He didn’t like that look.

 

“Max,” David started in a questioning, wavering tone, “You know I care about you, right?”

 

Max couldn’t answer before David was continuing in a pressing tone;

 

“I really care, you know. You know? Not- I don’t mean. I mean I **care** about you. You understand, right Max? You know that?”

 

He could tell from David’s tone - he wasn’t asking the question his words were forming. Except he had no idea what the man was asking him. Still, the tone and the words where both biased towards a certain answer. Hopefully…

 

“Yeah, I know.” he tried to shrug but his shoulders felt stiff.

 

David took a step forward.

 

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you, right? That I’d never want to hurt you? Because I care about you so, so much, Max. I do. I really do.”

 

Max nodded, swallowing as he quickly glanced down and up David’s advancing shape. He still tried to keep his voice light as if this was just David being his needy self and not… whatever this was.

 

“Yeah, obviously. You couldn’t hurt a fly’s feelings.”

 

This seemed to give David pause - thank fuck - but then he was crouching down. He was still a good stride away from Max, but he was crouching anyway.

 

“Are you. You’re no- You don’t have to be scared, Max. Are-? You. You don-!”

 

David swallowed the rest of whatever he was babbling about. Max took the topic of being scared and clung to it like a life-preserver. He scoffed and glanced away from David’s intense gaze;

 

“Think we’ve already established that I’m not scared of anything, David.” Well… technically, “Except old people having sex. Weird kinky sex. In a dungeon.”

 

He shivered in disgust for good measure, the memory of the Quartermaster not being a fond one.

 

* * *

 

Hearing Max’s confession felt like being doused in ice water. Why was he afraid of **that** ? Even worse, how did he **know** he was afraid of that? David clamped down on that thought in panic. He didn’t want to know- he couldn’t know the details. But he wanted to make sure Max was alright after this apparently traumatic experience. But he couldn’t comfort without getting more details than he could handle right now except that was obviously just an excuse to justify is horrible perverse behaviour and-!

What actually happened was he froze in his crouch and babbled half questions like;

 

“What do-? Ho-?”

 

“Yeah,” Max was practically running on autopilot now, shrugging at the admission, “When we snuck over to Spooky Island that time. The monsters and shit were fake, obviously, but it turns out the Quartermaster has a bunch of fri... “ he paused, reconsidering the word, “ _People_ over for a kinky orgy in the basement. Gross.”

 

David stood up and walked out. He thought the idea of Max in a strip club had been bad but an actual orgy? Small Max with a bunch of perverted adults, walking amongst naked adults. Being able to reach out to them or them running their hands- He whimpered as he balled his hands up and dug his nails into his palms.

 

“Hey!” he heard Max call out behind him as he walked down the corridor, “I thought you were doing dinner!”

 

The waver in the young boy’s voice was too much to handle. He was doing it again, suppressing his feelings, suppressing what he really felt. Damnit, David was ignoring him, wasn’t he, like his birth parents did. But he couldn’t stay, couldn’t be attentive. It wasn’t parental attention he’d give if he stayed. But Max’s voice was so scared, it was spoken with a shudder and a waver. He couldn’t leave but he certainly could stay but he couldn’t leave!

David collapsed in the hallway, sitting up against the wall and curling up on himself. He smothered his face in his hands, cupping them around his face so that his distressed sobbing was at least feigning politeness. His legs pressed his bastard erection against his stomach but he held them tight anyway. He would just suffer through it.

Through his sobbing he heard the distinct sound of sneakers scuffing along the carpet. Max never picked his feet up properly, especially not when walking around the house. God he wants to--

The thoughts _Touch him_ and _Die_ happen simultaneously.

And he gives a sound that’s as much a shout as it is a sob. He can hear as Max fidgeted in front of him and he refuses to look up.

 

“Wha...t’s wrong?”

 

David shook his head frantically. He can’t even begin to answer that.

 

“What happened?”

 

Something else he can’t answer with the horrible side-effect of thinking about Max at an orgy again. He shook his head again, or tried to as he shouted into his hands. He’d blame this on his missed medications but it’s only been the one day and this is way too much for his meds to deal with. This is just him and his own shitty reality.

 

“Did…” Max’s voice goes significantly more quiet, “Did I do something?”

 

David shook his head again, almost violently now. He couldn’t let Max think it was his fault! It wasn’t Max’s fault, he wasn’t to blame. It was David’s fault - all of it was David’s fault. The child was never to blame.

 

“Then what the fuck?!” Max hissed, still quiet but his voice now strained.

 

David whined into his palms but he could hear Max’s tone, could hear his fear. He had to assuage that but he couldn’t bring himself to actually say anything. To admit it to the outside world.

Instead he let his heels slip and lowered his legs.

There was a pause while David held himself still like that, trying not to think about what he was doing. After a long moment, he heard Max’s voice go;

 

“Oh.” in a faint tone.

 

Max was smart but he didn’t know what this was like. From his tone he understood that the comment about orgies hadn’t been the best one for David’s mental state right now. But there was no way the boy could know that such a thing was just the cherry on top of David’s dungheap of a day.

There was a shift in the air, David’s ears straining as speech almost occurred. David wasn’t in a position to protest at whatever Max wanted to do. He just sat there with his perverted body and his wracked face hidden behind his hands.

 

Quietly came Max’s melodic voice; “Shouldn’t you take care of that?”

 

His drawn out whine surely left the confines of his hands, warning Max of the dangerous territory he was stomping into. He couldn’t even muster up the energy to shake his head and deny the need to ‘take care’ of himself.

He felt the shadow of Max standing over him more than he saw it. He whined again, a keening desperate sound of panic as he tried to scoot himself back into the wall. But there was nowhere further for him to back into as Max walked closer to him, walking over his stretched out legs. David squeezed his eyes shut so he could free up his hands for more leverage, trying to push himself further back into the wall, trying to dissolve into the cheap plaster.

He felt Max drop onto his lap and a plaintive wail pushed its way out from behind his firmly pursed lips. But his distress didn’t seem to dissuade the boy at all as he felt him lean closer, the warmth of his body like a cattle prod against his body, searing his flesh through their two layers of clothing. He gave in to muttering, begging, praying;

 

“No, no, no, please, please, please, please-” As whimpers trembled out from behind his lips.

 

Then like the pre-mortem warmth of drowning, warmth bloomed on his neck as he felt Max press his lips to his pulse.

A sob tore out of his throat at the angelic feeling and before he really realised it he was pushing a hand down into his lap, feeling the pocket of Max’s hoodie against the back of his wrist as he tugged open his pants and pushed his hand inside.

The relief of pressure against his cock was immense, a type of pleasure in-of itself. Max overshadowed it in every possible way, having not moved his lips from David’s neck. As he squeezed at the base of his dick, he brought his other hand up to Max’s back and grasped him closer. He jerked the hand back a second later as if his palm had been scalded when really it had been merely scolded. Max may be here now but he couldn’t box the boy in, couldn’t contribute to the boy being here and… and giving himself to David like this.

It was still unforgivable, he thought as the tears bubbled up, what he was doing. But he wouldn’t make it that much worse by holding Max there. Not like had had that first night. He wouldn’t hold the struggling, fighting boy again. Especially not when Max had started to open up, to relax, to maybe even trust David. Not that he’d trust him after this.

Oh god, that first night. He hadn’t even been able to go a single night alone with Max and now - well now he had his fist tight around his sweaty and sticky prick while Max kneeled over him, hanging onto his neck in a manner that was almost a hug.

He could feel the boy’s warm thighs on the outer sides of his own, the feeling leading him to imagine Max’s bare, soft thighs. God he wanted to pull Max’s groin against his own but he settled for resting a cautious, wary hand over his tailbone and thrusting up into his fist, creating a faux version of the fantasy. In his mind he fucked his cock against the rough denim of Max’s pants and made him whimper with the feel of the full grown cock thrusting against him. In his mind he ran his hands up and down Max’s sides, his fingers sinking into soft flesh under his ribs and dragging heavy over his hips.

In reality tears trickled down his cheeks as he blubbered with the occasional wail. He could feel a flush through his skin, could feel the persistent firmness in his cock reacting with the fodder it was given, moving in a manner imperceptible to any sense except for his tight grip around himself. He couldn’t stop the tears from pouring forth as he moved his hand. As much as he imagined fucking into Max, imagined making the boy warble with pleasure, the idea was still forefront in his mind that what he was doing was wrong. That every one of his actions as hurting Max.

Hurting the one person he never ever wanted to hurt.

He’d just wanted to keep Max safe.

But that was just so difficult to do when he was the danger.

It was with a sound that was a moan of lust intertwined with a moan of grief that he felt himself cum into his fist, thrusting up lightly into the tingling feeling and feeling the back of his closed hand brush against Max’s hoodie once more sending a heady thrill through him.

Exhausted after that production, he barely noticed as Max lead him by his unsoiled hand to the bathroom. He was suddenly tall enough for the sink - the stool for that purpose didn’t occur to David in his state - and so Max pulled his cum-stained hand under an actually nicely warm stream of water and gently rinsed it clean. Then by both hands this time, the boy lead him into the lounge room and gently pressed his gangly frame into the couch that was still set up as Max’s own bed. He removed Mr. Honeynuts for a moment, then looked at the bear and pressed it to David’s own arms where his sleep stupor instructed him to hug the small fluffy thing that had been pressed into him.

David didn’t know where Max slept that night, but his own sleep was undisturbed.


	16. Chapter 15

David woke up to the smell of burning toast, roused from an incredibly deep sleep in a bolt of panic. Fear set in at the possibility of a fire, and right before they were going to move! He sat up and realized his resting place was too small, not his bed at all but rather the couch. Still hazy in the suddenness of being awake, he looked over to the kitchen. Max poked his head out, a look of surprise at David being awake.

 

“Oh- Sorry- I burnt the toast. I was trying to make some before you woke up…” He apologized, the words turning over in David’s head.

 

Yesterday hit him like a brick wall of painful realization, and all color drained from his face. His eyes were no longer focused as he remembered why he was on the couch, and what he had- what Max had- He started shaking, breathing in sharp and shallow gasps.

A small hand grabbed his own and he realized how close Max was now, concern on the child’s face.

 

“I-I- Y-yesterday-” He couldn’t find words. This was wrong. **He** should be making **Max** breakfast, he should be comforting Max. Not the other way around.

 

“Don’t think about it.” Max said firmly. He didn’t look mad, or scared, and David knew he should be infuriated and terrified. He shouldn’t be this close, he shouldn’t be this nice, not to David, not when- “Hey. What did I just say?”

 

“This is backwards.” David managed to spit out. “I shouldn’t’ve- you shouldn’t’ve- I’m sorry.”

 

Again. He fucked up again. He was a monster, a pitiful human being, a piece of sh-

 

“You didn’t hurt me. And I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to.” Max’s voice was softer now, but still firm.

 

“I left you alone all day. A-and then… I-I-I couldn’t-” He let out a shuddered breath, keeping his eyes away from Max.

 

Max shrugged.

 

“Being left alone wasn’t… Great.” He replied. A truthful sting David readily accepted. “But what happened after that. I made the choice to do that.”

 

“You shouldn’t have.” David said, unable to cover the self deprecating bitter edge to his words.

 

“Well too bad, I did.” Max’s replied with a rebellious tone. “Get your shit together, and eat breakfast, and pretend like yesterday didn’t happen. And take your medication. You missed, like, two days of that.”

 

With that, Max headed back towards the kitchen. David kept repeating how backwards this all was. David should be looking after Max, not the other way around. And Max… Max should have turned him in months ago. Hell, he should turn himself in. He was just making this worse. He shouldn’t have kept Max, shouldn’t have let the ten year old convince him to let him stay.

 

_But where else would he have gone?_

 

To a safer place, surely. Anywhere but with David.

His empty stare and thoughts were interrupted by a glass of orange juice and a blister packet of medication shoved in his face. Weary eyes glanced up at Max, the kid frowning but not in anger.

 

“We can’t just pretend like that wasn’t bad.” David whispered, taking the items handed to him. He popped open a pill and downed it with the juice.

 

“You didn’t do anything to me, David!” Max almost yelled. “I just. I wanted to help…”

 

“I’m **dangerous** _-_ ”

 

“Is that a fucking joke? You can’t even jack yourself off in fear of it hurting me. You’re the exact opposite of dangerous.”

 

“You don’t understand, Max.”

 

“Then tell me! Either explain it to me, or pretend it didn’t happen. ‘Cause you’re not getting rid of me.”

 

How could he explain it? That every action was influencing him in small ways he didn’t understand yet, that he might not understand for years to come? That even if he didn’t **physically** do something to Max, that he was still hurting him in other ways?

David just shook his head.

 

“Okay, fine. We settle on pretending it didn’t happen for now.” The addition of ‘for now’ didn’t escape David. It meant Max would probably bring it up later. He didn’t think he could stomach it later, but he certainly couldn’t now, so later was the better option.

 

It had taken David a few more minutes to bother pulling himself up off the couch, putting Mr. Honeynuts in his rightful spot after he had tumbled to the floor during the night. Max had cooked breakfast, or at least tried to. The toaster setting had been too high, blackening the toast, but they ate it anyway in an almost stubborn silence. After eating, David took a shower, letting the warm water wash off the darker of his intrusive thoughts while Max had started packing his things.

They were moving in to the new house in a few days, and David had meant to start packing yesterday. Between the two of them they didn’t have much, so it wasn’t a worry to put off. But the anxiety attack yesterday had pushed those plans over. He noticed with grim satisfaction that he had bruises forming on his foot and shin, painting his pale skin with purples and browns. Reminders.

He felt more refreshed when he had gotten out, dressing in clean clothes and readjusting the old yellow Camp Campbell shirt around his neck before stepping out. He could hear the T.V. droning on in the living room. Going to his own room, he made sure the door was left open and started filling the cardboard boxes he had left in his room.

 

* * *

 

Max watched David shuffle towards his room, craning his neck as he paused from throwing his clothing into a box. The door stayed open, wide open. The boy felt his shoulders drop tension, turning back to his packing. There was a relief in having that door open; it represented an allowance to approach David if he needed him.

He was feeling strange about the whole thing, an unusual warmth in his stomach. It wasn’t fear, but a sort of unease. It wasn’t even because of what David was or what he helped David do yesterday. He was scared **for** David. A sort of silent fear that trickled down Max’s spine that roused fear of separation. He didn’t want to be away from David, from someone who actually cared about him and housed him and fed him and was sickeningly kind. But he knew David was afraid, too, of other things. Of himself.

Max had the utmost amount of trust in David, because he fucking knew the useless man better than anyone else probably knew. And a monster he was not. The only time he really forced anything on Max, it wasn’t even bad. He’d been teasing the memory from time to time, cautiously approaching it like it might grow teeth and bite into him. He’d think about David pulling him close with a hand over his mouth, fucking into his fist. It wasn’t… Good. But it wasn’t bad either. David wasn’t bad.

He refused to let David think he was bad. And he refused to let David give Max away because he was worried he was bad.

He was aware, in some manner, that that wasn't the healthiest thought. That maybe it would be safer with Gwen or with… whomever. Not that he thought he deserved a bad guardian just that. David wasn't a bad guardian. Aside from his whole- no, even **including** his whole pedophile problem he was a good parent. If anything it was that which Max sensed and that fact that he strained to keep.

Max bundled up a shirt and tossed it in, glancing at the T.V. with vague interest. Thoughts were heavy on him now. He didn’t want to pack, but he wanted some sort of distraction. All he had were some clothes anyway. Max picked up Mr. Honeynuts and gave the bear a quick squeeze before setting him down on the couch, leaning against his pillow.

He let thoughts wash over him, letting them pass him by as he observed. Things David had done - good and bad. Things he had done. Ways he had pushed and even ways he'd - yerck - _opened up_. He wanted to talk about yesterday. With David, sure, but just with anyone. He wanted his thoughts and feelings out of his head. But there wasn't really a way to do that, not without being taken away from David.

As he mulled the incident over in his mind yet again he was still surprised to find that he wasn't disgusted by the memory. At the time he’d been acting automatically: he knew what would help so he’d done it. But still now the thought didn't make his stomach roll over, it didn't make him tense. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the memory but disgusted he was not.

Max looked down at his teddy bear, wondering for the umpteenth time, _why_.

 

* * *

 

A few awkward days later, Gwen was at the apartment helping them load the uHaul. It wasn’t more than half a dozen boxes and furniture, but she insisted on being there through the move. David had been on edge the whole while, nearly dropping his end of his mattress and falling down the stairs, and dropping a heavy box on his foot. Max snickered at the actions, but fell quiet after the initial outburst. He knew why Gwen made David so nervous.

They packed up easily and headed out. David said he’d go back to the old apartment later that week to finish cleaning up and turn in the key, to which Gwen argued against because ‘who cares if you don’t get your deposit back, you’re rich!’. David thought it would be too rude to not leave his last home of several years in pristine condition.

The work of loading and unloading the moving truck seemed to ease both David and Max, a physical task that required them to focus on things other than the elephant in the room that stood between them. David slipped into happy banter with Gwen, Max gave a few jabs at the benefits of Gwen doing so much lifting work. It was good.

 

“Okay… I think all that’s left… is Max’s bedframe and mattress.” Gwen panted as she put down the last of three boxes labeled ‘KITCHEN’, “And I still don’t get why you didn’t **hire** movers.”

 

“Oh c’mon, Gwen! A little lifting just gets the blood pumping.”

 

Wisely, she saw him reconsidering this advice as Gwen turned her face towards his.

 

“But how about you leave those last bits to me? Max?! Could you grab Gwen a glass of water please?”

 

“She can get it herself.” came his voice from the depths of the new kitchen. Gwen poked her head around the corner, glaring at the boy as he conspicuously poured himself a glass.

 

“Thank you, Max!” David dumbly replied as he headed back out to the uHaul.

 

Gwen fetched her own glass of water and returned to the lounge room to flop down on the couch, propping her boots up on the coffee table. Max followed after her, pointedly climbing over her immoveable legs and sitting next to her. They watched as David brought Max’s bed inside piece by piece and listened as he set it up in his new room. They shared a glance, silently agreeing to a truce so that David wouldn’t rope them into helping - they were already tired.

Gwen looked around at the house properly for the first time since the boys had moved in. It certainly looked a lot like the display house they had looked at before. She was still a little disappointed that David hadn’t bought the lavish mansionesque place even if this was the smarter choice. She’d imagined throwing wild parties in that other house.

But this place felt like David. It didn’t look like much with all the boxes stacked up and the few bits of furniture mostly bare, but she could cross her eyes and see how the boxes would unfold and fill the place with a homey warmth. David would make this place a home faster than you could bake a tray of homemade s’mores.

It felt like Max too, though. Surprisingly modern, like the kitchen with it’s new fridge and it’s dishwasher and trash compactor. With more to it than meets the eye, the ceilings taller than she expected and the walls wider than she thought. She can already see the scuff marks that Max would leave all over the place. She could imagine the open doorframe of the kitchen marked with wiggly pencil lines where a struggling Max would barely hold still for David to measure his height against.

To her surprise, she could see herself going over the pencil marks with a permanent marker, making sure that Max couldn’t rub out David’s hard work. She could see herself tidying up the dining room portion while David puttered away in the kitchen. She could see herself sleepily trying to push passed her ex-co-counsellor in a bid to get to the upstairs bathroom first. Could see Max giving her a wicked yet half-asleep grin as he slipped inside first and forced her to walk all the way downstairs and **over tiles** instead.

Gwen stared down into her empty glass of water, her brow furrowed. Where had those images come from?

 

“Right!” she didn’t jump at David’s sudden announcement, Max could shut the hell up.

 

“All finished! Now we both have somewhere to sleep tonight.” He clearly said the last part at Max, though the boy didn’t seem to care.

 

Forest green eyes landed on her.

 

“Oh Gwen, thank you so much for all your help!” He walked forward like he was going to pull her up and hug her, despite being on the wrong side of the couch for that. She gave him a firm look and he ceased.

 

“With the moving and with finding this place! Oh you’re just absolutely swell!”

 

“Yeah, thanks.” She rubbed the back of her neck, unaccustomed to such open praise.

 

“Are you expected home? If you like, I could cook you a ‘Thank-you-for-being-the-bestest-friend-anyone-could-ask-for’ dinner?”

 

“Uh, yeah sure. Free food? You are speaking my language.”

 

“Right! Maybe you two want to sort out the television while I sort dinner?”

 

Gwen gave Max a light tap upside the head when he just shrugged, his phone magically in his hands already. Yet once David had left the lounge room he wasted no time in getting up and heading to the television. She suspected he would've done this without her 'encouragement’.

 

_Maybe I don't need to defend David's behaviour that much._

 

She stood to help, reading through the manual and guiding Max on what to connect and press. Every once in a while, they would hear a yelp from the back of the house. As the television finished tuning, there was another yelp. Max pulled out his phone again, clicking away. She left him to it and went to check on David.

All three kitchen boxes were open, half unpacked. Nothing was cooking, though from the smell a burner was on. David had a red welt on his arm and a harrassed grin when he saw her enter.

 

“Gwen! Dinner will be a _little_ late. Don't worry about it! I have it all under control.”

 

As she saw smoke starting to rise from the burner behind him, she couldn't believe him.

 

“David, turn off the stove.”

 

His expression stressed as he whirled around. She turned back, to abandon this failing cause or check on Max or something.

She was preempted by Max already leaning in the doorway, his phone to his ear. They shared a look, silently communicating that, yes, David was in over his head and fucking up. Max nodded and she knew he had it under control.

 

“Yeah uhhhh can we have tw- nah three large pizzas? Number 3, 12 and 15.”

 

He recounted their new address and pulled out a wallet that was definitely David's and recounted a credit card number. The number’s must've caught David's attention, as soon enough he was standing beside her watching Max order pizza.

 

“I was cooking…” he protested.

 

“No, you weren't.” She retorted.

 

Max rolled his eyes at the phone, annoyed at whatever question he’d been asked.

 

“Oh, come on, yes I have permission to order! Fuck, fine. Here you can talk to my Mom.”

 

He pointedly grinned at David as he handed the phone to Gwen. She muffled a laugh at David's expression before talking into the phone:

 

“Yes, I’m Max’s mommy! Did my wittle honeybunch order the pizzas like I asked?”

 

Max’s eyes went wide as she muffled another laugh. David looked dangerously starry-eyed and didn't seem to notice as Max started forward to try rip the phone away from Gwen, swearing loud enough for the person on the line to hear. Louder, she continued;

 

“What did my gorgeous, perfect, angel of a son order? Isn't he just the sweetest?!”

 

She heard a long-suffering sigh, familiar as something that usually escaped her own lips. For a moment she felt bad for essentially pranking this minimum wage worker but the expression on Max’s face made it worth it.

 

“Seriously, put the kid’s order through, thanks. I could hear him the whole time - all the info’s right.”

 

With a mumbled confirmation of delivery time, she hung up and finally returned the phone to Max. He snatched it back;

 

“Holy shit you're such a bitch. Thought I could trust you to have a little more fucking restraint than **David**.”

 

Gwen smirked at him.

 

“What, and miss out on the chance to mess with you? You called me 'Mom’ - I fucking **had** to.”

 

He glared at her, but the fire wasn't there. It looked more like when Neil technobabbled a sneaky solution to Max’s problem. He was annoyed at the methods but at the outcome? Gwen didn't know if she could commit to calling him **proud** , but he was pleased at very least.

David, meanwhile, squealed like a preteen and lifted them both up into a hug.

 

“Oh, I just love you guys so much!”

 

Gwen and Max rolled their eyes at each other, resigning themselves with hidden happiness to David's outburst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how updates happen, now. Out of the blue, a day after episodes go live.


	17. Chapter 16

“You sure you don’t want to stay for some breakfast?” David asked rather weakly to Gwen, who was putting a grocery bag on the kitchen counter.

They had just gone shopping, after David realized that they had nothing to do for breakfast since they had devoured all the ordered pizza the night before. Gwen had taken Max and David with her to show them the stores that were just down the street, the trio loading up a shopping cart with goods, before wheeling the shopping cart home. David declared their cart thievery a downright scandal. Gwen countered with their lack of ability to tote the food back, since they had walked there in the first place.

“Nah, I should probably get back home myself.” Gwen replied, offering a half smile. “Besides, after the campout and all that pizza, I think I’m set on payment for helping you move in.”

The ‘campout’ had been David's idea, after it started getting late. The living room was currently a mess of blankets and pillows, the mattress of the couch pulled out. Max hadn’t seemed too interested in it at first, but had been the first of the trio to pass out in a blanket pile.

“Oh, okay!” David replied, trying to squash the anxious waver in his tone. Max poked his head into the kitchen.

“What, you’re _leaving already_ ?! We haven’t even gotten through _half_ of our brand new Cable channels.” He stated, arms crossed. Gwen quirked her brow at Max’s insistence but only reached out and ruffled his hair.

“Cable will still be here when I come back later in the week. It’ll give me something to do while you do your school work.”

“You are the _worst_ teacher.” Max grumbled.

“You can text me if you need anything, David. I’m just around the corner, but for now I’m gonna head back to my place.”

“Your _parents’_ place, you mean.”

“Max!” David said incredulously.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t be so hard on your _dad_ , Max.” Gwen gave as a retort, heading towards the front door. “See you boys later!”

“Bye…” David sighed, glancing nervously at Max. The kid was making his way back to the living room. “Oh, good idea, Max, you take care of the living room, I’ll get the groceries!”

And then he was left alone.

David filled the silence, accompanied by the rustle of groceries, chattering about where various items should be packed away into. Dry goods went into the little walk-in pantry, cold into the fridge. A tub of ice cream went into the freezer and Max returned from - presumably - cleaning the living room to climb onto the counter so as to set up their new spice rack - one of their new acquisitions while shopping for furniture. It wasn’t his mother’s hand-labeled jars, but the store-bought shakers where good enough. Better, actually, in a way.

The first time Max said anything since they’d returned to the new house was when he had to tell David that he was a complete moron for trying to put the cartoon of eggs in the pantry. When David protested they spatted about proper egg storage procedure. Max won, technically, but since David had complimented on his good ‘egg-iquette’ Max considered it a net loss. A bottle of something that Gwen had shoved at David from a shop Max hadn’t been allowed into was placed on top of the tall fridge, presumably to discourage Max from stealing it. But eventually everything was packed away - the cart neatly yet bizarrely parked next to the front door, just behind Max’s shoes, so that David would remember to take it back.

Then there was nothing to do.

Gwen’s absence was a chasm between them. It reminded Max of his first official night at David’s or of his first day at Camp Campbell. Feeling out of place and lost. Or, not lost, but something else. Like he was a lost object, or like someone had… David didn’t feel much better. The bruises on his leg had only just started to turn yellow and they still made his stomach turn over. He felt vindictively satisfied at the sick feeling but dwelling on it wasn’t helping him. It felt like the first day of camp, with the terror of a whole bunch of new children he would have to silently and secretly acclimate himself to. That he would inevitably have an inexplicable panic attack over.

Gwen was always the one that talked him down from his panic attacks.

After filling the kitchen, the two of them sat in the quiet living room while birds twittered outside and sun shone in from the side. Max had propped himself up on the couch, not the one he had comfortably beat into a bed at David’s old apartment, but still enough of a couch to be familiar. David sat in his armchair, one he had pilfered from his parent’s old place, that had been where he lived since forever. They sat but didn’t talk, the television off and their phones tucked away.

With a start, David sat up and pushed himself to his feet. Max watched with startled eyes as he retreated around the corner and back into the kitchen. There was the sound of running water and then he returned, looking a touch affirmed.

Then the two of them sat in the quiet lounge room while sparrows peeped in the front garden and rays of golden light streaked in from the window. Max opened his mouth and said;

“...”

Before closing his mouth with a sigh. There was silence within the room, the bright Fall day outside untouched by the atmosphere in the house. David jumped to his feet a second time, his hands coming up to nervously gesture.

“I should make us breakfast!”

“Uh, obviously. It’s why we went shopping, isn’t it?” he glared but he didn’t roll his eyes away from David for even a second.

David nodded, seemingly heedless of the insult, and spun around to return to the kitchen. A few seconds later, Max slouched after him.

David poured the egg-mixture into a hot pan, watching the omelette solidify while Max prepared the bits and pieces they’d put inside including but not limited to an alarming amount of grated cheese.

“It’s because they’re like dosa. I mean, they’re not at all, but they’re- they remind me.”

The sentence from Max had come out of nowhere.

“Sorry, what’s like, uh, dose-ah?”

“Omelettes.”

“Uhm-”

“It’s more like a pancake, actually. We had them for breakfast on weekends. You’d spread egg on while cooking along with- well, anything. Carrot and onion and paprika, a dash of oil. Omelettes have way too much egg but-”

Max shrugged in lieu of the rest of his explanation. There was a pause and the silence began to seep back in before;

“My daddy used to make us omelettes. Not all the time - weekends, usually, I think, like you. He used to make big fluffy ones, though. Just egg and cheese and a pinch of salt. I think Mom added tomatoes to hers but Daddy said she was cramping his style. That was… a while ago, though. I think I prefer camp-out breakfasts but… there’s something nostalgic about omelettes anyway.”

David looked away from the stovetop for a moment and caught Max giving him the edge of a smile.

 

* * *

 

The glow from breakfast faded as the sun rose about the window and the suburb outside woke up to the drone of passing cars. It left the pair sitting in their couch and armchair respectively and detached. David tried to turn on the television, but Max snapped a question at him too sharply and the man - spooked - turned it off again despite protests. Max tried to occupy himself with his phone but he kept hearing stops and starts from David’s mouth and it distracted him, not knowing if he’d be interrupted or have to answer some inane question soon.

If he looked over his shoulder, over the back of the couch and through the archway, Max could see the entryway and the cart parked there. He looked back at David, who was staring at a box pushed against the wall next to the television as if he was actually going to get up and start unpacking it. Max would bet good money that he wouldn’t, but would give into the oppressive air of this quiet lounge room instead. The wall clock struck one in the afternoon. Max stood.

“Whelp, this sucks. I’m gonna go take that shopping cart back.”

It was better than staying cooped up in this house.

“Oh,” David looked at him, “Are you sure? The stores are-”

“Barely twenty fucking minutes away, David, I’ll be fine.”

“But what if something hap-”

“-Oh no~ I’m gonna get kidnapped. What would my parents think?” Max interrupted with a sarcastic gesture.

“Have you got your phone?”

The only response to that was Max’s hand poking around the archway and wiggling his cell in David’s direction before the door opened and closed and the house was somehow even more quiet than it had been before. After maybe a minute he stood on restless feet and went to check that the front door was closed. Confirming that, he wandered the house.

It was a good place - two bathrooms, three bedrooms and a paved spot to park the car off of the road. Getting the bed frames up the stairs had been a bit of a chore, but Gwen had helped with the first two and a child’s bed was hardly the heaviest thing he’d had to lift before.

The house was nice but… It was empty. Not just because he was the only one here. His apartment had years of his life stored away in it - Camp Campbell had years of hundreds of people’s lives. This house was fresh and new and sterile. It would take some time to settle in, David supposed. He could barely remember the last time he’d moved and moving out of his late parents’ home was a rather different affair from mortgaging a house that would fit him and his benevolently-kidnapped child.

Gosh, his life had gotten real weird lately.

But David had never liked waiting around for things to get better. At camp there was always a new activity to move onto, a new child to focus on, something else to make the day fun and exciting. There had to be something here, too, something to help not just Max but to help him, too.

He knew some of the tension would only be solved when they talked about what Max had done the other day. But the rest was just new-house jitters. **That** had to have a solution.

Upstairs, he peered into the bedrooms. Max’s had his bed set up, covers on it, his bear adorably sitting up against the pillow. His boxes lined the walls as David had been concerned that if they stacked them in the built-in wardrobe then they’d just stay in there forever. There was a chest of drawers and a desk as well as a bedside table with a lamp atop it. They’d get a bookshelf, soon, but for now that’s all there was.

A wrinkle creased on David’s forehead.

He moved down to the guest room. It was a bit much, maybe, but they’d been given three bedrooms and David had thought that it was somewhere Gwen or a babysitter or one of Max’s friends could stay. Realistically they would probably end up moving the single bed inside to a wall and putting Max’s desk in here, adding some more bookshelves and making it a study. Or maybe a spare television and making it a gaming room. A game room with some board games, maybe some wool for knitting, Max had been rather excellent at that camp after all.

But for now it was just a bed and a dresser. Only a box or two in here.

He inspected his bedroom last.

It was the largest in the house, filling one side from front to back. The realtor had called it the _Master Bedroom_ , which Max had unhelpfully laughed at. He had a queen-size bed in it, at Gwen’s insistence and at more laughter from Max, already made up with linen. Two bedside tables graced either side of the headboard, one with a lamp and the other with an alarm clock. He had his own set of drawers, but also a bookshelf from his apartment and a cupboard intended for hobbies and not clothes. His boxes where hidden in the built-in wardrobe as he was sure he’d have his unpacked in the next day or three.

His Memories corkboard was in a box at the moment, as so where his photos. He headed over and opened one of his boxes, pulling out a photo. Him and Jasper, the last year Jasper ever came to camp. David had always assumed that Jasper had known that David would return and he hadn’t wanted to see him again. But that wound had started to heal over the years and he’d never wanted to forget the good times they’d had, even if their last time hadn’t been quite so… good.

He set the photo up on the dresser and took another look around the room.

It was still wrong.

Leaving it unsatisfied, he returned downstairs to check the time. Twenty minutes too two o’clock - Max should’ve been home by now. Maybe the clock was running fast. Still, Max was only ten and he was out at the shops all on his own. He’d probably got distracted. Or someone had distracted him. There were a lot of shops at their local square - not just a supermarket but a bakery and a hardware store and a local farmers market and…

David’s eyes lit up.

 

* * *

 

Max was finishing carving David’s name into a tree on the sidewalk when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Fishing it out, David’s name flashed up at him.

“What?”

“Are you still out at the store?”

Max held the phone away from his ear for a sec to check the time. Shit, yeah, David would’ve expected him back by now. He just had wanted to linger and take his sweet time instead of having nothing to do back at that house. He could unpack, sure, but it was the first day that they’d moved in. He could’ve done school work, but see the previous excuse. But without something productive to do he just… Didn’t know what to do in that place.

“Yeah, fucking relax. I’ll head back in a sec.”

“No! No, stay there. I’ll meet you!”

“Uh, o...kay?”

“Okay Max, see you soon!”

“Sure, bye.”

After that peculiar exchange, Max finished the last ‘ _d_ ’ and headed over to loiter in the Square. A few games later, David rounded the corner, waving at him. He didn’t dignify the exuberant display with a response and simply waited for the man to reach him.

“So, what? Lunch? Thought we bought all the food we need?”

“No! Well, actually, yes we should probably get lunch. But no! I had a different plan.”

“...And that is…?”

“It’s a surprise!”

“David, we both know **exactly** how well your surprises usually go, so how about you cut the bullshit and just tell me.”

“No, you’ll love this one for sure! Just trust me.”

Max rolled his eyes and led David into the bakery to see how many pastries he could pass off as ‘lunch’. The answer turned out to be ‘ _two and you have to get a fruit, too_ ’ so that was what he munched on as David led them into the hardware store. He walked alongside the trolley as David led them to the paints section.

“Pick your favourite colours!”

Max raised a brow at him before shrugging. It wasn’t like he was actually wasting David’s almost unlimited money. Even if he **was** , David would never admit it had been a waste. He wasn’t likely to get anymore information out of David about this so-called surprise, anyway. Unlike camp, there was no one other than David to ask and he had no partners-in-crime to serve as distractions while he went snooping. He may as well go along with it.

David collected some pails, too, and in the end they hardly had a full cart but Max still couldn’t imagine why they’d need this much paint. David added a roll of plastic sheeting, some masking tape and brushes and then headed to the checkout to pay. In the end they stole a cart yet again, David muttering something about how he had to start bringing his car. Max entertained himself the rest of the way back by implying that David hated the nature since he wanted to add more greenhouse gases to the Earth.

The jovial attitude fell as soon as they stepped over the threshold, the quiet house imposing it’s on them once more. Max looked up at the towering ceilings, his hands picking at lint in his hoodie pocket to stop them from lashing out at the walls. It was too perfect and sterile - everything his parents’ house had been and nothing that Camp Campbell had been. He knew which he preferred, as much as it killed him to admit.

David, however, almost pushed passed him as he wheeled the trolley into the middle of the entryway. He turned around, looking every inch the camp counselor he’d once been, and grinned brightly at Max.

Max gave him a doubting look back.

“What?” He provoked.

“I have a _home-tivity_ for us to do!”

“A _ho_ \- David, holy fuck, this isn’t **camp**! You can’t just start camp activities and pretend like-”

And then David threw an open can of paint at the wall.

Mouth still open, now just agape, Max watched as _Fun Yellow SW6908_ dripped down the wall and slowly made its way to the cream tiles below. Only once the drips had slowed to a snail’s pace did he look back up at David with an unspoken ‘ _What the Actual Fuck?_ ’ all over his face.

“As I was saying,” David continued, a tad smug, “I have a home-tivity for us to do. Because, really, just because this is our house doesn’t mean it’s our home. Not yet. And some of that will take time, of course. But I thought we could help kick-start the process by livening the place up and giving it our own personal touch!”

“So… Instead of hiring painters, you’re gonna me as free child labour?”

“N-no,” some of the wind fell from his sails as he was caught trying to sell Max on the idea, “You don’t have to paint the walls perfectly! You can paint whatever you want! You could paint a picture, or some quotes that you like… Oh, like-!”

David grabbed a brush from the cart and dipped it in the open _Fun Yellow_ before painting; _Campe Diem_ next to the splash mark. Max walked up, gestured for the brush and proceeded to paint over the last letter in both words.

“Max!”

“You said I could paint anything, Camp Man.”

And really there was no arguing with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience guys, but try not to worry too much when it takes us a month or even longer to post a chapter :) We appreciate the love, but it still takes us a bit of time! Thank you all so much for reading and leaving such lovely comments!!

**Author's Note:**

> So we have the ever lovely Jaye to thank for this, as they were the one who came to me after I posted my one shot with the start off ideas for what this fic will become! We both hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Also, let us know if you think there are more tags that we should be adding.


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